


When All Goes Black

by sans serif aster (ubercharge)



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Drama, Grillster, M/M, Meta, Soriel, Spoilers, dads all around, is there seriously no fucking gaster tag, kingdings, omega fucking spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-07 13:49:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5458733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ubercharge/pseuds/sans%20serif%20aster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <b>[ major spoilers ahead. ]</b>
</p><p>because even the most impressive brilliance can be snuffed out.</p><p>au where gaster inexplicably returns. his personality may be informal and less than shining, but after his vacation to the void, he’s smarter than ever. the problem is, when you’ve been gone for so long, you’re forced to adapt to the changes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Traipse Into the Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> like it says on the cover - a simple ‘gaster returns’ au. this gaster in particular is based off of my “”””shitposter”””” gaster, whom many people like (i appreciate it). i created him to pull away from the sadder and more angry interpretations of him ([lookin’ at you, todd.](http://toddnet.tumblr.com) buddy. _pal._ ) by making my version of him more light-hearted.
> 
> naturally, i had to shatter that to pieces with notions of deepness and character building. 
> 
> note: gaster uses sign language speaks in capitalized wingdings, which will be shown in square brackets. grillby uses visual morse code, which will be shown through italics. //

“W-what do you mean he’s _back?!”_ Dr. Alphys asked, pacing back and forth in her lab.

She paused at her table, claws digging into the wood grain as she stared at her Mew Mew Kissy Cutie poster. A plea for help. Her feathered crest was lowered and quivering.

Sans was sitting on one of two chairs at the table, one elbow on the surface and fingertips rapping against it. He was deep in thought, trying to articulate the proper response to placate his friend.

They hadn’t spoken to each other in a long time.

“he’s just... back,” Sans said. He wasn’t smiling now. Instead, he looked worried. “and i don’t know how. both of us can guess, but unless we ask him ourselves, we can’t say for sure how he’s... existing again.”

Alphys removed her claws from her work desk, and took a deep breath. She turned to her fellow scientist. Someone with whom she’d worked in the past. Someone who knew Gaster and temporal complexities better than her. One of Gaster’s sons. It was amazing how calm he could be, even now, as their assumed reality was falling to pieces.

“You know... w-what the worst part is?” she asked softly.

Sans looked up, questioning.

“I can still remember it. I-I mean, there’s a part of me that remembers when he didn’t exist and how things were without him. But there’s a part of me that remembers all that, a-and written over it, over these past memories, i-is the knowledge... the pain of knowing he’s been gone.”

Sans looked down again.

“I-is that how it’s _supposed_ to be, Sans?” Alphys asked, looking increasingly panicked. “It’s like, when he came back, h-he split reality into two... Th-the _past._ Like both these r-realities exist at the same time somehow... W-what does this mean for the timelines...?”

Sans closed his eyes. “i don’t know, al,” he replied. “i’ll be honest, i don’t know. i’m a little worried, but for some reason, somehow i have this feeling that what he did was... legitimate. there’s gotta be some logic behind it. look, you knew- _know_ him. you know me. i can sense it... if i ran a test right now, the timelines would look different, but at the same time, nothing technical would be out of order.”

Alphys shook her head. “I never got the time stuff like you two did... y-you know that. It was my thing w-while not being a part of me.”

Sans quirked a smile. “i know, al. you’re still pretty damn smart, so don’t sweat it. heh. it’s not gonna help either of us to dwell on this.”

“Y-yeah, you’re r-right...” Alphys said, wringing her paws. Her crest rose as an idea popped into her head. “A-after what happened, we haven’t seen each other i-in a while. Now that you’re here, we might as well c-catch up...?” she suggested hopefully.

“sounds good,” sans said, nodding then getting up from the chair. “been a long time since we’ve binge watched anything together.”

Alphys’ crest flapped down then back up again in excitement. “Yeah!” she said, nodding. “I’ll make us some ramen!”

Her paws pattered against the tile as she hopped onto her lab’s conveyor belt and went to fetch some ramen packets from her fridge. Sans studied the mess of blueprints and notes on Alphys’ table. The scattered tools, bits of wire, scrap metal, screws and nails and batteries. He wondered what his friend had been working on all this time, and regretted how he’d avoided her since Gaster fell into his creation and he started working tirelessly to bring him back.

It had been by sheer luck that Alphys remembered anything at all about Gaster post-accident. Luck, a bit of science, a bit of magic, and a bit of Sans’ desperate explanations. After Alphys was appointed the new royal scientist, she had to pour all of her time into continuing the work between her, Sans, and Gaster in relation to Determination. It had been her hardworking attitude that gave her the job, and besides, Sans didn’t want it.

He wanted his father back.

Nobody else remembered him. Not even Papyrus, and that hurt Sans almost as much as Gaster being gone in the first place. He spent almost all his time in his lab. He cut off communication from Alphys altogether, ignoring her calls and messages. One day, he dropped his phone, breaking it, and didn’t bother fixing it. He didn’t want to talk to Alphys - she only reminded him of Gaster. He didn’t want to talk to anyone.

After realizing that, despite all his work, all of his work, Gaster’s work, and Alphys’ work together couldn’t bring Gaster back, something in him broke. And Sans gave up hope. His depression grew worse and worse. It was a long time before Papyrus could coax him back into a comparatively normal life. An even longer time before he was anything close to okay again.

But by that point, Sans had to accept that it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. All of the RESETs in all the timelines couldn’t bring Gaster back. And even then, they would keep happening. All of his work would be for naught; it didn’t matter how close he thought he was to a solution.

There was always another RESET.

“H-hey, Sans!” Alphys called. “Ramen’s ready!”

“coming,” Sans said.

And now that Gaster was back somehow, what was Sans to do? He kept worrying about the next RESET and how that would affect Gaster’s existence. He hadn’t even met up with Gaster yet. He wasn’t sure he wanted to, after he’d finally accepted he wouldn’t get Gaster back. It wouldn’t be easy. He had a hunch that whatever Gaster had gone through, being shattered through time and space, had changed him. Would he even recognize Sans? Alphys? Papyrus? Anyone at all?

“I-is it okay if we watch your favourite?” Alphys asked as she transferred ramen into bowls. “I know w-we’ve seen it a bunch of times, b-but that was a while ago! S-so it’s okay, right?”

Sans’ hands clenched. He had to pull himself together.

“yeah,” he said, stepping onto the conveyor belt to join Alphys. “it’s fine, i don’t mind.”

He could worry later, and he knew Alphys would let him because she was a good friend, always understanding because she went through a lot of the same problems as him. His current regret, though, was that he wasn’t with Papyrus. He knew Papyrus would be hurting and confused right now.

But Sans knew if he’d gone to see his brother right after that weird feeling clicked in him and something in his mind whispered Gaster’s return to him, he wouldn’t be able to handle it. He wouldn’t be able to hold himself back from a complete breakdown, and he was not in the mood to accidentally cause his brother - and Undyne, whom Papyrus was likely with - severe physical damage.

So he had to hold onto his thoughts and feelings. He had to tamp them down, at least for the time being. He had to take some time to recover. Then he had to take some time to think - but only when he was ready.

“you still got those bean bags?” he asked.

Alphys just grinned and nodded.

 

“[WHAT’S THE MATTER, ASGORE?]” Gaster asked, trailing after the king. Literally trailing; his black, formless body seemed to melt into the ground and the shadows.

“I don’t know, Gaster,” Asgore replied with a shake of his head. His brow furrowed. “Perhaps I simply haven’t made my mind up yet.”

He stopped, and Gaster nearly bumped into him. Asgore turned to face his friend. Deep concern was written over his features.

“It’s not that I’m not happy about your return,” he said. “I am. I... I’ve missed you dearly.”

Gaster blinked.

“It’s more that... Because of how it turned out, with the... the timeline,” Asgore continued, frowning a bit. “Well that’s all a bit over my head - you know that. But being fully aware now that you’ve been gone, and that you’ve been gone for so long... It’s not only difficult for me to comprehend. It’s difficult for me to feel... okay that you’re suddenly back.”

Gaster cocked his head. One of his fingers twitched.

“[...DO YOU WANT ME TO GIVE YOU SOME SPACE?]” Gaster asked, the words quiet.

Asgore winced. “I didn’t mean... I... I’m not sure, Gaster. I think some space might help, though. It’s just that so much has changed, I don’t know what to do about it. How to... present you to the public. If you would like them to know, that is. Most of them don’t know you, because they were born after the... the accident.”

Gaster gave a small nod of confirmation.

Asgore turned back around, facing his throne room now. His cape fluttered before settling back down. It was a lovely shade of purple. Gaster tore his gaze away from it. It was too familiar, and for some reason, that hurt.

Ten, a hundred, a thousand years ago; Gaster didn’t even bother pinpointing the specifics now. Many years ago... Yes, he’d been rather fixated on the king. He spent an embarrassing amount of time staring at his cape instead of making eye contact lest he imparted a gaze that would tell more than he wanted to tell. Luckily, Asgore always had a fondness for grand, sweeping gestures and was used to some of his subjects not making eye contact with him. He was the king, after all. Kind as he was, some just acted that way towards the royals out of habit. Habits ingrained into them from their last ruler.

Gaster, being nearly as old as Asgore, could easily use formality and deference as a front. He avoided eye contact even as the monsters of the underground gradually started warming up to their benevolent rulers. 

“I have missed you,” Asgore added, closing his eyes and listening to the birdsong. “I feel like, in a way, I was lost without you. You know how I felt after losing her. My dearest wife, Tori...” He sighed. “I’m sure when you were erased, so to speak, I didn’t feel anything more than the dullest sense that something was wrong, before I carried on. Just like everyone else. But after your return and the memories flooding back, there was so much pain. Does that make sense?”

Gaster nodded. It did. Those who knew him before the accident weren’t aware it happened. When he was gone, he was gone. Only a few remembered him - including Sans and Alphys. Sans had full knowledge of him. But upon Gaster’s return, everyone who knew him was suddenly aware he’d been gone. They had a split awareness of a reality where he was wiped from existence, and a reality where he was simply gone for a long time and had just returned. In that second awareness, they felt the full force of loss, of missing him as if they’d been aware of his absence the whole time he’d been gone.

For Asgore, one of Gaster’s oldest friends, that couldn’t have been easy. There were only a handful of others who felt that level of pain, and had built that many memories.

“Now, I’m not sure if the best thing for myself and for us would be to spend time together now. I want to catch up, more than anything, I really do.”

Gaster’s void-tail swished, snagging against the window frames’ shadows on the corridor floor. “[BUT YOU NEED SPACE.]”

Asgore stepped into his throne room. He looked regal against the backdrop of the room and the golden flowers growing all over the floor. The light dappling him from above made his crown glimmer, and his strands of blond hair caught the light as well. Gaster’s fingers knitted together. His friend really hadn’t changed much at all. A millennium of being lost in the infinity of time and space, yet Asgore himself was still the same.

“I think so. I’m sorry. I don’t want to make it hard for either of us, and it would be unfair to you to take all of your time now,” he said, giving a rueful smile.

Gaster’s hands melted back into his shapeless form. He gave a respectful bow.

“[I WILL MEET WITH YOU ANOTHER TIME.]”

“See you, Gaster. We’ll have tea and then we can catch up properly.” Asgore gave a real smile, the warm kind he was known for giving.

Gaster shuffled back out into the corridor. It was weird not having a physical form with legs like he used to, but it was a small sacrifice in the face of a life he could actually live again. He did not look back before melting into the shadows.

Like Sans, Gaster was a skeleton who could manipulate time and space. He could teleport, but he didn’t. Instead he travelled by slipping into a shadow and melting into it because for some reason, that was easier to him than teleporting. Then he would be in the confines of the non-existent void of eternity. In a short walk, he’d be wherever he needed to go. Sans used a different method. But Gaster liked the company of himself.

 

Grillby preferred to communicate in flickers of light. He was younger than Gaster, even Toriel, but not by much. Like Gaster, he was quiet. Gaster appreciated that; he liked the quiet. The din consisted of Grillby’s flickering flame body. A warm, crackling fire.

“[STILL WEARING THOSE GLASSES?]” Gaster asked, hand signing as he spoke. “[I’D THINK YOU’D HAVE CONTACTS BY NOW.]”

Grillby manipulated his face-flames in a way to show an eyebrow raise. It was quite something to watch.

 _‘I can’t believe I haven’t thought of that,’_ he replied, his flames blinking.

Not all monsters understood him, but older ones tended to have a grasp on most languages anyway, especially skeletons. Skeletons were the masters of language. In any case, Gaster understood and laughed. He’d always loved Grillby’s snark, sass, and sarcasm - something that many others didn’t have the luck of understanding.

“[HOW HAVE YOU BEEN?]”

Grillby shrugged as he poured Gaster his drink - rum and coke - over ice cubes. He was careful not to get his hands too close as he added a slightly burnt lime wedge.

_‘I can’t say a lot has changed. I’ve been looking after your sons. Even when I wasn’t aware of you, I suppose there is still that urge to be a guardian. I have yet to spawn my own offspring, after all.’_

A flare of gratitude sparked inside of Gaster before he nodded in understanding, and took the drink. The glass was cold but Grillby’s presence was already melting the ice inside.

“[I APPRECIATE IT. I’LL HAVE TO GO CHECK ON THEM MYSELF, SOONER OR LATER.]”

Grillby cocked his fiery head. _‘Have you not seem them yet?’_ he asked.

“[I... I HAVEN’T. IT’S NOT LIKE I DON’T KNOW HOW THEY’RE DOING. I MIGHT NOT REMEMBER EVERY LITTLE DETAIL FROM THE VOID, BUT I REMEMBER ENOUGH. I CAN TELL YOU THAT - EVEN RIGHT THIS SECOND - BOTH OF THEM ARE FINE,]” Gaster said, giving a tiny smile. “[I DON’T THINK THIS TIMELINE IS ONE IN WHICH WE’LL HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT ANYTHING. THERE IS AN ANOMALY, SO TO SPEAK, BUT I AM NOT WORRYING ABOUT IT.]”

_‘An anomaly? What do you mean?’_

Gaster took a sip of the rum. Skeletons, lacking a bloodstream, couldn’t get drunk the way most non-elemental monsters could. Their little physicality and their magic didn’t line up in a way that made alcohol a fun and easy escape; skeletons just didn’t have the same experience with alcohol. But Gaster was also part void, so the drink didn’t really even go anywhere. He felt the coldness seeping into his form, warming briefly before disappearing.

It helped him feel better.

“[THE HUMAN,]” Gaster said, swirling the glass as he quirked a hollow grin. “[THEY HAVE BEEN IN HERE AND THEY’VE ALREADY PASSED SNOWDIN.]”

Grillby thought about it. That had been a busy day, hadn’t it? He poured himself a screwdriver.

_‘I think I remember. They came in here, looked at everything and talked to everyone before leaving again. Then Sans brought them back and dumped a ton of ketchup on their fries. It was kind of rude, but...’_

Gaster laughed, a distorted, rippling sound that might’ve once been like a laugh combined with the rattling of bones. It sounded more like a tear in the fabric of space-time.

“[THAT LITTLE SHIT WOULDN’T HAVE EATEN ANYTHING ANYWAY. SANS TALKS TO THEM ABOUT THAT OVERGROWN HOUSEPLANT WHOM HE, IN SOME TIMELINES, ALREADY KNOWS AND HAS BEAT THE FUCK UP. HE’S REAL FUCKING SHADY, THOUGH, ‘CAUSE HE PRETENDS HE’S TALKING ABOUT THE ECHO FLOWERS IN WATERFALL WHEN HE ISN’T. BUT THE HUMAN’LL GET THE POINT ANYWAY BECAUSE HE SPEAKS OF THEM IN YELLOW AND CYAN TEXT.]”

Grillby’s shoulders shook and his flames brightened and grew louder, which was a mute fire monster’s way of laughing. He really had missed Gaster and his presence that seemed to fill up a room when he walked in.

“[THE HUMAN IS THE ANOMALY. THEIR CHOICES CAN’T BE DICTATED BY THE TIMELINE, BUT IT DOESN’T MATTER, BECAUSE I STILL KNOW WHAT THEIR CHOICES WILL BE. IT’S KIND OF FUNNY, ACTUALLY. OR MAYBE NOT THAT FUNNY. ACTUALLY... WITH A LOT OF THINGS, THEY DON’T SEEM TO BE MAKING THE CHOICES THEMSELF. THERE'S... SOMEONE. WITH THEM. ALWAYS.]”

Grillby poured some of the drink onto his head, which was his method of drinking. He just burned the alcohol and the soda left a sickly sweet taste in him, but that was the way he liked it. The smell of burnt, sugary orange filled the air.

“[ALMOST EVERY BEING’S CHOICES ARE WRITTEN INTO THE TIMELINE, BUT WHAT THE HUMAN DOES... IT MAKES THINGS A LITTLE BLURRIER IN THE FACE OF REALITY. DOESN’T MAKE SENSE, DOES IT? THE TINY SHIT IS GREAT AT NOT MAKING SENSE.]”

Grillby finally took a seat to relax. He didn’t need to; standing didn’t take any effort, but it did lighten the atmosphere some. He wanted to listen to everything Gaster had to say, to everything he’d learned. He wondered how long it’d take to hear all of that. Forever? Almost forever? Even Gaster’s knowledge pre-accident was extensive. Grillby had fallen asleep listening to him talk. He had so much to say.

“[I KEEP THINKING I SHOULD DO SOMETHING ABOUT THEM, WHETHER OR NOT THEY MAKE MORALLY DUBIOUS CHOICES. DO I NEED TO? NO. NONE OF US DO. REGARDLESS OF OUR ACTIONS, THE HUMAN’S PATH IS SET IN STONE. MORE THAN THEY THINK IT IS, I FEEL,]” Gaster said, closing his eyes. “[FEW OF US HAVE THE ABILITY TO CHANGE THEIR FATE. AND EVEN IF WE DO, THIS IS JUST ONE TIMELINE IN THE SEA OF INFINITY.]”

Grillby threw back his screwdriver and set the glass down. Gaster reflexively leaned back to avoid the burst of flames.

“[THERE ARE THREE MAJOR TIMELINES. EVEN IN INFINITY, SOME POSSIBILITIES ARE MORE LIKELY THAN OTHERS. SOME TIMELINES ARE LIKELIER THAN OTHERS, WITH THIS ANOMALY OF A WEIRD TODDLER. SO, THERE’S THIS BOOK FROM HUMANITY, AND I DIDN’T LIKE IT BUT IT SAID A THING ABOUT HOW SOME INFINITIES ARE LARGER THAN OTHERS, OR SMALLER THAN OTHERS, I DON’T REALLY CARE. THAT’S WHAT THIS IS.]”

Grillby squinted, which didn’t look much different from his head just being the way it was. Gaster could see it, though. It didn’t require nigh-infinite knowledge just to know his friend that well.

“[IT MIGHT NOT SOUND LOGICAL, BUT LIKE... I MEAN. THAT’S KINDA LIKE, QUANTUM PHYSICS SHIT, Y’FEEL? DOESN’T SEEM TO MAKE SENSE IN SOME WAYS, IT DOES IN OTHERS. THERE ARE TIMELINES SEEPED IN SHADOW THAT EXIST BUT SIMPLY DO NOT EXIST AS MUCH AS OTHERS.]

“[ALRIGHT, I’M GONNA GO OFF ON A FUCKING TANGENT HERE. GET YOUR HOT ASS READY. WOW, I CAN’T BELIEVE I JUST SAID THAT. I MISS SANS. ANYWAY - THIS HUMAN IS DANGEROUS. DEADLY. THEY’RE AN ANOMALY BECAUSE THEY MIGHT BE A GENOCIDAL HELLSPAWN. YOU’D BE SURPRISED HOW ‘LIKELY’ THIS KIND OF TIMELINE IS. THERE’S A VOID EVEN I CAN’T SEE INTO, AND I HAVE A BAD FEELING THAT THAT VOID MIGHT BE A LITERAL VOID. THAT THERE ISN’T ACTUALLY ANYTHING THERE. NO LIFE, NO TIME, NO SPACE. THE HUMAN MAY BE THE ONE CAUSING ALL THESE TIMELINE CUTS AND WARPS, BUT... THEY MIGHT ALSO BE RESPONSIBLE FOR THAT VOID POCKET.]”

Gaster finished his rum and coke. His voice quieted as he continued, “[IT’S NOT HAPPENING IN THIS TIMELINE, BUT I STILL HAVE CONNECTIONS TO ALL THE TIMELINES. WHAT WORRIES ME IS THAT THIS VOID HAS SIMULTANEOUSLY HAPPENED AND NOT HAPPENED. IN THE SAME WAY I ONCE EXISTED WHILE NOT EXISTING, AND IN THE SAME WAY THAT THERE ARE INFINITE MULTIVERSES WHILE THERE IS A MULTIVERSE WHERE NO OTHER UNIVERSES EXIST.]”

Grillby was almost asleep - his flames had dimmed a bit, and Gaster flashed a sympathetic smile.

“[I APOLOGIZE. I DIDN’T THINK I’D BE TALKING FOR THAT LONG.]”

 _‘Don’t worry about it,’_ Grillby replied, waving a hand.

Gaster headed over to the other side of the counter, which was actually just him making himself less corporeal and phasing through the counter.

“[COME ON, YOU NEED REST.]”

_‘I don’t need rest. I only need fuel.’_

Gaster’s pupils blinked into visibility so he could roll his eyes.

“[YOU SOUND SO MUCH LIKE SANS AND ALPHYS. THEY’D BE EATING FUCKING RAMEN AND DRINKING SODA AT FOUR IN THE MORNING. WHETHER THEY WERE WATCHING ANIME OR DOING COMPLEX SCIENTIFIC WORK, THEY COULD NEVER REST. BUT THEY NEEDED IT. AND EVEN AN ELEMENTAL MONSTER LIKE YOURSELF NEEDS REST.]”

_‘I’ll sleep here.’_

“[NOT TO SOUND RUDE, BUT THAT IDEA FUCKING SUCKS.]”

_‘That was rude.’_

Gaster gave a soft sigh. He wrapped the shadowy void of his form around Grillby, and picked him up with ease, one hand on his back. He was burning hot, even as he was drifting off.

 _‘Talk to me about the void,’_ Grillby said, tugging at what he assumed was the general area of Gaster’s arm.

It was hard to tell what was what, when Gaster was formless and didn’t form limbs. He could form shadowy tendrils, and if he happened to feel like it, crude and inappropriate shapes. But he didn't bother with limbs at the moment. 

“[THE VOID IS A WHOLE LOT OF NOTHING. SOMETIMES I THINK THERE’S SOMETHING, BUT THEN I REALIZE I’M WRONG AND IT SUCKS ASS.]”

Grillby could feel a comforting heat emanating from somewhere within Gaster. Skeletons could adjust their body temperature at will. Was he doing that now, or was his own heat just spreading?

“[HOLD THE FUCK ON,]” Gaster warned, dark tendrils snaking out of his form.

He ducked into the corner where the ‘fire exit’ door was, and pressed himself against the wall, feeling cold shadows grabbing at him. The void whispered a greeting into his head.

 _‘Onto what?’_ Grillby asked, grabbing at a whole lot of nothing inside of Gaster as the skeleton sank into the wall.

“[TO YOUR PANTS, I GUESS? FUCK IF I KNOW. I SAID THAT TO TIP YOU OFF; IT WASN’T ADVICE. HERE, TAKE MY HAND. I GUESS THAT’S A HAND. OKAY, NOW IT’S A HAND. SEE? I ADDED PROTRUSIONS THAT RESEMBLE FINGERS.]”

Grillby took Gaster’s hand. A weird pulse came from within the dark hole in his palm. But his hand, with its finger-like protrusions, was definitely warm. And Grillby appreciated that - even more so as a bitter cold washed over him in unison with a sweltering heat.

“[HEY, I’M WINGDINGS GOLDEN ASTER, AND THIS IS MY CRIB,]” Gaster said, still carrying Grillby.

_‘What? Is this... where are we? This isn’t my home.’_

“[OH MY GOD, GRILLBY... MOST PLACES AREN’T YOUR HOME, BUT YOU CAN MAKE THIS PLACE YOUR HOME IF YOU WANT.]”

Grillby saw Gaster’s void room as a simple room with dark grey walls and a grey floor. It was a modest size, like a small apartment or a large living room.

_‘This is where you sleep?’_

“[NAH, I DON’T NEED SLEEP. I’M LIKE, ONLY HALF A BEING, REMEMBER? BUT YOU NEED SLEEP. HERE, WATCH THIS, I’LL MAKE A BED FOR YOU. OR WOULD YOU PREFER A GIANT FIREPLA- KIDDING, KIDDING,]” Gaster said, snickering as he felt Gaster punch him.

He didn’t make any movements, didn’t say anything, and didn’t even gesture to the floor as he summoned a metal bedframe, quickly followed by the rest of the bed. A blanket and some pillows after made it a perfectly normal bed.

“[WAIT, WAIT. CHECK THIS OUT.]”

Gaster turned it green. Vibrant lime stripes of varying widths ran down the deep emerald blanket. Now it was a perfectly normal green bed.

 _‘Okay, that’s pretty neat,’_ Grillby said, his flames blinking.

Gaster set him down on the bed. It was immediately set on fire.

“[SICK AS FUCK,]” Gaster said, nodding in approval.

But Grillby was already asleep. The bed could burn indefinitely. Such was the way of things that didn’t exist, and yet, at the same time, did exist.

Gaster wasn’t lying when he said he didn’t need to sleep, but he wasn’t in the mood to meet his sons, Alphys, and Toriel just yet. He knew the conversations ahead were inevitable. They could be delayed some, but they were inevitable all the same, in the end. So he summoned himself a bed as well. For some reason, a part of him saw it fit to make the bed purple, and seeing that just made him sad.

Purple was Sans’ favourite colour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \\\ think of wingdings as a different dialect of english. as with different dialects of, say, cantonese, there is a similar sound, but just because you can speak and understand one doesn’t mean you can understand the other. all monsters understand sign and some, morse, but not all non-skeletons have a grasp on wingdings.


	2. Brutal Jack Shit

“Got any fives?”

“go fish. got any sixes?”

“Damn it! H-how do you keep winning this game?!” Alphys asked, tossing her six of spades over to Sans.

“iunno, i guess i’m just an _ace_ at card games. crown me _king._ i don’t know _jack_ shit about a lotta other things, but cards i can do.”

Alphys snickered. “C-cards aren’t the only thing you can do.”

Sans’ face glowed blue as he shot her a glare. “spare me, al,” he replied.

“Oh, c’mon, Sans! W-when are you gonna tell me a-all about her, huh?” Alphys asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sans gestured at the giant monitor in Alphys’ lab, which the two were sitting in front of with their card games, bean bags, and junk food setup.

“there’s not a lot i can tell you that you don’t already know.”

Alphys huffed. “I-I didn’t _mean_ to spy on you! I was w-waiting for the human, you know that, Sans... But then you j-just had to come up and knock on the door.” She grinned. “I couldn’t look away! C-can you blame me? You two are s-so cute together... I mean, those pickup lines you tried that one day...! You n-never actually told them to her, but...”

“stop, al. i am in full-out suffer mode here,” Sans groaned, covering his face with his bony hands and reclining into the bean bag.

The lab’s automatic door opened.

“I thought I l-locked that last night,” Alphys mumbled, squinting in indignation at her own door.

“‘sup,” Sans greeted without removing his hands from over his face.

“Sans. Alphys.”

“ah, fuck,” Sans muttered.

“H-hey, Undyne...”

Undyne was at the door, drenched in sweat and water. She walked into the lab, dripping all the while, and sighed in relief as the door shut behind her and the rush of a fan from just inside the door blew over her. The lab was warm, because Alphys preferred the heat, but it wasn’t as bad as Hotland itself.

“I’m here to collect _him,”_ she growled, pointing an unspoken accusation at Sans.

“i’m not getting up,” Sans replied, wearing his trademark grin once more.

“W-wait, is it... Oh. Oh no. P-Papyrus...” Alphys said, eyes widening.

Undyne nodded once, then turned back to Sans. All business, staring daggers at the heap of bones on the mushy bean bag. Her gaze softened, but only a bit.

“Has he been here all night?” she asked.

“Y-yeah... ever since he realized... um. Well, I g-guess if you’re here, Papyrus m-must’ve explained it to you...? S-so yeah. He’s b-been here all night.”

“I’m sorry, Sans,” Undyne said quietly.

“don’t be,” Sans replied, rubbing his forehead as if trying to wave away a headache.

“You two are gonna have to deal with it, though. You can’t avoid your brother forever.”

“i know.”

“You should go see him, Sans.”

“i know.”

“Right now.”

“i know.”

“As in, if you don’t get up, I will _throw_ you back to Snowdin. From here.”

“ok.”

Undyne shot a helpless look to Alphys, who just shrugged in response. What was she to say? She knew Sans better than Undyne, but she wasn’t about to tell Undyne to take ‘no, maybe later’ for an answer. Undyne wouldn’t accept that. Not now. Not for this.

“Alphys,” Undyne sighed, shaking her head. “Can I get a drink? Then we have to go.” She frowned in annoyance. “Or he’ll never get up. I left Papyrus with the canine guards, they’ll help comfort him for sure, but... I think he needs Sans with him. I think they need each other.”

Alphys nodded. She agreed, of course, though she wasn’t sure how it would affect Sans’ mental state. But she complied, fetching some cold water that she kept just for Undyne, and handing her a half-eaten box of unsalted crackers.

“I-I know it’s not much, but uh... try to get him to eat... something...? M-maybe?”

Undyne nodded in understanding, taking the food and water. She shoved Sans’ hoodie at him, which he took with a hand, before grabbing him by the back of his t-shirt.

“Thanks, Alphys. I appreciate it,” Undyne said, flashing Alphys a smile before leaving.

“S-see you Undyne,” Alphys said, her face heating up. She stared until the automatic door slid to a close.

 

Gaster twiddled the ring he wore on his left pinky ‘finger’ sometimes. He thought about how Grillby had woken up more than a little confused, but grateful nonetheless. He’d said something, but it didn’t come out too coherent due to his grogginess.

_‘Thank you, Gaster.’_

There was an odd serenity lurking in the tundra’s forest. Somewhere behind him loomed the ruins with its tall door and rooms full of puzzles. Somewhere ahead of him was the friendly town of Snowdin. Somewhere in or around Snowdin, Gaster’s sons were going about their daily business. He already knew Sans was asleep and Papyrus was cooking a dish he _called_ spaghetti but in reality, could hardly be labelled as food.

Gaster missed them.

Somewhere deep in the expanse of half-physical matter he called his body ebbed his soul. He felt inside of him the love for his family, his friends, and...

_“MY DUTY TO THE THRONE. TO THE BENEVOLENT ROYALTY THAT GOVERNS US.”_

Once upon a time, Gaster had made up excuse after excuse to avoid speaking what he truly felt. Once upon a time, Gaster had loved someone who already loved another and if it hurt at any point, he didn’t show it. He didn’t need to; the secret was safe when it was his. Of course, _she_ knew. But she would never hold anything against him.

Once upon a time, the Royal Scientist known as Doctor Wingdings Golden Aster, colloquially referred to as Dr. Gaster, had a best friend named Toriel Dreemurr, whose husband he was secretly - to her, perhaps not so secretly - in love with.

She could not fault him for his feelings and for that, Gaster could not fault her when she didn’t deny her own. It was him who’d introduced them. It was him who’d known Toriel since he was young, Asgore when he was even younger than that.

The wedding had been surprisingly easy to bear. Gaster had been happy for both of his close friends, and he knew that their love for each other was something real. Something to be cherished, perhaps even admired.

Funnily enough, a millennium in the void hadn’t changed Gaster’s feelings. Or perhaps they had worsened, and they were now a gnarled, thorny vine growing within him. He invited the feelings because it had been so long since he’d _felt_ feelings. Anger at being torn across space-time; that had been a sharp knife dulled. Sadness from not being remembered? Happiness from having no more mortal bindings? All washed away by the sands of time less linear than most saw it.

The ring was beginning to sink into his melting finger, so Gaster pulled it back into the void. He didn’t want to look at it any longer. It made him think of Alphys, whom he knew kept her ring in its box so as not to tarnish it.

Sans... Sans was his son, a scientific natural, so to speak, like himself. Gaster had worked with him since he could fit in a lab coat. The two had spent a lot of time together when Sans wasn’t at school and when they weren’t spending time with Papyrus, as a family.

But Alphys had been a shining star in her formal education, and had studied for a job like being his apprentice since middle school. Gaster knew for a human, an academic career went past in the blink of an eye, but there were monsters who toiled in their schooling for centuries. Gaster supposed that was partially thanks to their much longer lifespans and thus, increased amount of time they had to learn things, if they desired.

So Alphys took her time to learn, less hands-on experience but plenty of book smarts in her feathered head. Gaster could remember her many achievements, even before his journey to the void and back. She didn’t talk about them often, but there was a glimmer of tentative pride when she did.

Four-time consecutive science fair winner. She was the president of the anime club. And its vice president. And its treasurer. She was its sole member; nobody knew what anime was. She was the valedictorian of her graduating grade. Gaster himself admitted her to the school named after him. Then she graduated with a physics degree and a masters in metaphysics. When Sans insisted that Gaster take her on as his official apprentice, he couldn't think of a single reason he'd have to deny it. Not only because of Sans being his son and all, and him being Alphys’ friend, but also because of her credentials and work ethic.

The two worked on their doctorates together, under Gaster’s guidance. Though his efforts were focused on the CORE and, of course, taking care of Papyrus and reading to him at night, Sans and Alphys poured everything into researching space-time. He would be lying if he claimed that the fruits of his efforts and the creation of his CORE did not benefit from his son and apprentice’s research.

When the two were done, reviewed, and deemed worthy of their titles, Gaster didn’t stop calling them both ‘doctor’ for a week straight. It caused a lot of confusion, but his swelling pride was impossible to tamp down.

And when the CORE was completed, Gaster was showered with endless adulation. A shame his moment of glory had to be cut short so soon.

“[THERE I GO AGAIN,]” he said out loud to the snow-laden trees. “[THINKING ABOUT THE PAST. AS IF ANYBODY GIVES A SHIT.]”

His hands melted back into his body, and he stretched up out of habit, despite lacking the need to maintain the ramrod straight posture he used to have. The feelings from remembering the past, they were coming back and Gaster had not prepared himself for them. Thinking about Asgore was one thing; he was _used_ to that. But when it came to his two faithful co-workers and students, son and apprentice, he really couldn’t dam the tsunami... When it came to Papyrus, Gaster couldn't even start or he'd cry.

It was Sans who'd worked tirelessly to bring him back from the void. And Alphys suddenly had the limelight, being thrown into his former position as the Royal Scientist, having to bear the weight of the job.

Now he was back. Not from Sans’ work, nor from Alphys’. No wonder neither of them had bothered to seek him out. It was unfathomable what the two were going through now, mentally. Of course, he had a feeling thanks to his period of infinite knowledge, but as sand through an hourglass, he could not hold onto all his memories forever.

He wasn’t even quite sure himself how he was back, though he did have an inkling and would tend to it when he spoke to Sans. Eventually, he would have to speak to Sans. He couldn’t avoid it forever, but he could damn well try.

“[I STILL CAN’T BELIEVE THERE’S FUCKING SNOW HERE,]” he muttered, trying to clear his thoughts. “[THE SCIENTIST BEFORE ME WAS THE ONE WHO ACTUALLY ACHIEVED SHIT. FUCKING SNOW, I SWEAR TO FUCK. THANKS, LESLIE.]”

Gaster pulled his black void cloak around him tighter, shaking his head as he shuffled off deeper into the forest, musing all the while.

“[LES WAS A WEIRD ONE. GOT SHIT DONE AND SOMEHOW HELPED CREATE THE UNDERNET, BUT THEY ALSO BROKE MY FUCKING ARMS ONCE FOR FUN.]”

He looked down, at the light trail he made in the snow. No footsteps.

“[GOREY AND UNDYNE COULD PROB’LY DO THAT TOO,]” he sighed. “[THEY WOULDN’T, BUT THEY SURE AS FUCK _COULD.]”_

Now he was thinking about Asgore again. Great. Just great. He decided to make his way over to Grillby’s, the only place he could let himself think about shit that didn’t suck to think about.

 

“I do not want to talk to him, but I cannot stop thinking about him... But I really do not want to talk to him.”

“Well, it’s a good thing you don’t _have_ to.”

“It’s hard, though... He didn’t do anything wrong.”

Webbed fingers tapped against black and off-white keys, producing a simple warmup chord that filled the lull in the conversation. Undyne was stillest when she played the piano, with the exception of her arms and hands, and the occasional nod of her head. Her long red headfin swished.

“Give it time,” Undyne replied, her yellowed claws clicking against the surface of her piano. “He’ll understand if you need time, right?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Asgore’s large hands clutched his comically small teacup in a gesture of nervousness. He took a deep breath, his broad shoulders practically heaving along with its exhale. At least he looked smaller without the pauldrons.

“I think he inferred that on his own,” Asgore replied. His brows knitted in concern. “Well, he is smart. I’ve learned a very long time ago to stop being surprised when he shows he has more knowledge than he lets on.

“Sounds like a big nerd,” Undyne muttered. Her facial fins, blue streaked with red, flapped a bit. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that.”

“He is a big nerd,” Asgore said with a small chuckle. “I do believe that’s a bit of a trend among Royal Scientists. Now, Leslie, on the other hand-”

“OH MY GOD!!” Undyne exclaimed, giving the piano a discordant smack. “Not this again. You’ve already told me about Leslie and how they, like, invented underground snow and the Undernet and the whole damn world or whatever. I get it, big guy, I do.”

Asgore smiled and took a sip of his tea. Scalding, because Undyne liked it no other way. She couldn’t deal with hot temperatures, but she lived for heat just about everywhere else. The passion in her heart was unquenchable.

“Undyne, listen. Not about Leslie,” he said.

“In that case, I’m listening,” Undyne said, returning her fingers to a simple melody that she played with more force than needed for a piano.

“I...” Asgore began, making a conflicted expression. “I think he might... like me?”

Undyne faltered in her song, and her headfin twitched.

“Asgore, c’mon,” she said.

“I mean it,” Asgore insisted. “I may be oblivious to some things, but in matters of romance...”

Undyne snorted. “The things Gerson’s told me about you and your ex-girl... I really don’t need you to elaborate there.”

“I understand romance and love,” Asgore continued. “Perhaps not as well as I thought I did, but I am not as blind to things as I may seem. An issue matters not... until the King cannot tend to it.”

“I think you’re getting a little too serious now.”

Asgore stared into the steam rising from his tea. “My memories are foggy at best, but thinking about it now... I don’t think these feelings are as new as I had first assumed. You see, when he first spoke to me upon his... return, I knew I was the first person he’d spoken to. The first person whom he’d been in contact with for countless years.”

“That’s a lot of years,” Undyne quipped.

“Yes, it is,” Asgore said, to which Undyne snorted. “He was certainly calmer than I was. As if all that time was really nothing to him, when I feel it should have been... everything. How can anyone adjust to that? It’s beyond me. I shouldn’t have turned him away so soon.”

“Did what’cha had to do at the time. You can always make it up to him, but hey, it’s better than reacting shitty off the bat, I guess. Tell him you’re sorry for being blunt, that’s easier than telling him you’re sorry for... being too rude?”

Undyne turned on her piano bench to face him.

“Sometimes, saying too little is worse than saying too much. But I don’t think this is one of those times. He sounds like a pretty understanding guy, yeah?”

Asgore gave a nod.

“Be honest with him. Don’t be BRUTALLY honest. Just... honest,” Undyne said with a half-shrug. As if the great monster king could be brutal in his words to anyone.

“I still don’t know what to make of his... feelings,” Asgore admitted. “I haven’t felt for anyone since Tori.”

Undyne pulled the bench over to the table, and patted Asgore’s furry hand.

“You don’t have to like him to be a good friend. Remember that,” she said with a toothy grin.

 

“[IT’S BAD.]”

_‘How bad?’_

“[PRETTY.]”

Grillby snorted, which wasn’t a snort so much as it was a funny little puff of fire coming from his head. He was wiping a glass dry, readying it for its next drink.

“Hey, Grillbz!”

Both Grillby and Gaster turned to the feathered monster at the counter, reddish plumage ruffled. They were sitting beside a scaly orange monster with red lips, patchy stubble, and a rippling silver dorsal fin.

 _‘What can I get you?’_ Grillby asked, setting the glass down as his head flickered.

The feathered monster laughed loudly, orange beak open wide as they flapped an arm-wing.

“Oh my gosh, Grillbz!” they exclaimed. “You’re such a card.”

“What’d he say?” the scaled monster asked, gravelly voice low.

The feathered monster’s eyes glittered. “It was a dirty pun, one of Sans’,” they whispered, both eyebrows raised as if they were speaking a secret scandal.

“[GRILLBY, YOU BETTER NOT BE LETTING MY GOATFUCKING SON MAKE PISS JOKES, I SWEAR TO ASGORE’S TINY FUCKING CROWN I WILL THROW YOU INTO THE ETERNAL VOID.]”

Grillby raised his hands in a vaguely defensive gesture towards Gaster before he turned to the other monsters at the counter.

 _‘I didn’t make any jokes,’_ he replied. But he knew it was useless; few monsters in Snowdin understood him unless they were around his age or older.

The feathered monster gave a giggle. “Okay, okay. I know. That’s enough for now. Next time, maybe?”

“[OH MY GOD, GRILLBY, PLEASE. SANS IS LIKE, FIVE CENTURIES OLD. I NEED TO GET HIM EARPLUGS FOR YOUR SWILL. YOU ARE A TERRIBLE INFLUENCE ON MY SONS.]”

Grillby shot him a look. Or maybe he just turned his head; it was hard to tell.

_‘Sans is more than five centuries too old for you to get him ea-... Neither of you have ears. I don’t have ears. I don’t even think the shopkeeper carries earplugs.’_

Gaster laughed. “[I KNOW WE DON’T HAVE GODDAMN EARS. I WAS FUCKING WITH YOU,]” he said. “[WORKS EVERY TIME AND I’M NEVER GONNA GET TIRED OF IT.]”

_‘I’ve missed having you around, Gaster. Your sons liven up the place, but neither of them are you.’_

“[FOR THAT COMPLIMENT, I’LL BUY YOU THE NEXT ROUND OF DRINKS.]”

_‘...Gaster, I never charge you for your drinks.’_

“[DO YOU CHARGE MY SONS?]”

_‘Papyrus doesn’t set foot in here to eat. Sans has a tab that he's never paid.’_

“[THAT’S HILARIOUS. WHAT A FUCKER. TOO BUSY BEING A FURRY AND SHIT.]”

 _‘Yes, well... I don’t have the heart to reprimand him. He’s spent too much time in that very seat, slumping along the counter and trying to smile forever.’_ Grillby’s flames crackled, a silence in communication for a moment as he compiled his words. _‘Nobody can smile forever, Gaster. Not even him.’_

Gaster’s shadowy form slumped.

_‘You should go see him soon, you know. I don’t mean to rush you... I understand you may need a breather considering you’ve only just returned. But he’s your son, and you can’t spend every night in the void, Gaster. I know Papyrus misses you too. You have to see them both. The storm on the horizon will not pass around you, my dear friend.’_

“[I FUCKING HATE IT WHEN YOU GET DEEP AND HAVE A POINT AND SHIT. YOU’RE TOO SMART FOR YOUR OWN GOOD, GRILLBY. YOU DON’T SAY MUCH TO THE OTHERS AND THEY PUT THEIR OWN WORDS IN YOUR MOUTH YET IT DOESN’T MATTER TO YOU MUCH, DOES IT? FUCKING HELL.]”

Gaster peeled himself away from the stool, and straightened as much as he was physically capable of doing.

“[LISTEN, GRILLBY. YOU’RE TOO GOOD. KINDA LIKE PAPYRUS, BUT NOT AS MUCH AS PAPYRUS ‘CAUSE FUCK, NOBODY’S AS GOOD AS PAPYRUS. HE’S THE NICEST KID YOU’LL EVER MEET AND HIS SINS ARE NONEXISTENT. HE’S GOOD. HE’S A FUCKING ANGEL, THE KIND THE HUMANS WOULD TALK ABOUT SOMETIMES.]”

Gaster paused, looking down, then back up at Grillby.

“[THERE’S A LOTTA NICE IN YOU, AND A LOTTA WARMTH - THAT WASN’T A PUN. I HAVE NO FUCKING IDEA HOW YOU’VE HELD ONTO THAT KINDA NICENESS FOR THIS LONG, FOR MOST OF YOUR FIERY LIFE, BUT YOU HAVE. IT’S A MIRACLE, ALMOST. SOMETIMES, PEOPLE GROW BITTER. THEY LET THE LIGHT FADE FROM THEIR HEARTS AND THEN THEY TURN TO DUST.]”

A smile, now.

“[I’M NEVER GONNA SEE YOUR ASHES. KNOW WHY? KEEP THIS SHIT UP, COASTING THROUGH LIFE THE WAY YOU HAVE LIKE IT’S NO PROBLEM, AND YOU’LL LIVE FOR-FUCKIN’-EVER. I SWEAR ON THE ETERNITY OF SPACE-TIME. YOU AND PAPS’LL LIVE FOREVER. SO LIKE, KEEP THAT IN MIND, I GUESS? DUNNO WHERE I WAS GOING WITH THIS.]

“[SANS IS ALWAYS GONNA BE THE OLDER SIBLING WITH A BLIZZARD THAT LIVES INSIDE OF HIM AND ISN’T EVER GONNA MELT COMPLETELY. PAPYRUS IS THE UNRELENTING SUN THAT REMINDS WINTER TO STEP ASIDE FOR SPRING. THEY’RE GOOD KIDS, RIGHT? AND YOU’VE BEEN A REALLY GOOD GUARDIAN FOR THEM. I CAN’T EXPRESS HOW GRATEFUL I AM FOR THAT. I THINK YOU’D BE THE SUMMER, ‘CAUSE EVEN THE LIFE OF SPRING GIVES WAY TO A PEAK.]”

Grillby wasn’t sure what to say or even if it was a good time to reply, but it seemed Gaster was wrapping up his lengthy rant anyway.

“[LMAO I COMPLETELY FORGOT WHERE I WAS GOING WITH THIS. SORRY ABOUT THAT. POINT IS, MY SONS ARE LIKE, YOUR SONS TOO? I KNOW YOU CARE FOR THEM A LOT THE SAME WAY I DO. I WISH I COULD’VE BEEN THERE FOR THEM, BUT _YOU_ HAVE. MAYBE NOT ALWAYS, BUT ENOUGH. MORE THAN ENOUGH. DON’T DENY IT; THE INFINITE KNOWLEDGE I HAD MEANS YOU CAN’T PLAY DOWN YOUR EFFORTS.]”

He shrugged, and seemed to be satisfied.

“[I’MMA TAKE A WALK NOW, OKAY? MY HEAD KINDA HURTS. MAYBE I’LL BE BACK IF I’VE CALMED DOWN. SEE YA.]”

Grillby didn’t flicker a goodbye before Gaster turned and shuffled out the door, trailing shadows in his wake.

“Hey, G! Can I get a campari and soda? Wait, wait no, make that a round of tequila shots!”

Grillby turned to the requester - the horse with the slicked-back mane who liked to hang out by the broken jukebox - to nod before getting to work on their drink.

He thought out loud in the sense that his flames flickered as he thought, because he knew there wasn’t a soul in the bar right now who could understand him.

_‘If Sans is the eternal winter, cold and frostbitten... If Papyrus is springtime, full of life... If I am summer, the scalding heat... Does that make you autumn? The changing colours? A turning leaf?’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \\\ [thank you to al](http://actuallyalphys.tumblr.com) for a couple of drink suggestions.
> 
> i headcanon sans as older than alphys. i made an exception for this fic.


	3. Ashes Float, Tears Don't

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edit: a person on tumblr asked why gaster comes off as calm at first, then seems like an asshole in the last chapter. well the answer to that's pretty simple, but let me just say this fic will make a lot more sense if you don't assume he's neurotypical... because he isn't. even if he was, i think it's reasonable that people's personalities and actions aren't a list of things you can read off and know they'll follow down to the letter. a person can be friendly to you, doesn't mean they can't still be a douchebag. //

The smell of tomato sauce filled the air. It was punctuated by shouts and the clatter of a wooden spoon hitting a metal pot, more aggressive than necessary. Small barks joined the noise, and before long, Papyrus was chasing the dog, red-splattered spoon waving in the air.

“GET BACK HERE!!” he yelled, clomping out the door.

The dog had already run off, and Papyrus gave a sigh of resignation as he shut the door. He peeked under the tall sink, and was surprised to see his entire bone stash gone. How did that even work? The dog was tiny. Papyrus gave a shrug, and returned to his sauce-making.

“THIS SAUCE IS STILL GOING TO BE PERFECT,” he declared to himself, stirring the pot with force the way Undyne taught him.

The door re-opened.

“A VISITOR?” Papyrus asked, gasping despite his lack of lungs. “FOR ME? OR ARE YOU LOOKING FOR SANS...?”

“[NO, I WAS LOOKING FOR EITHER OF YOU. OR BOTH. I DON’T F- I DON’T... UH. GOSHDARN CARE...?]” Gaster replied, shrugging a bit as he tried not to swear.

He knew Papyrus wasn’t as fluent in Wingdings as Sans; he’d taught it more extensively to Sans when he was younger. By the time Papyrus was hopping around, Sans had several languages down, along with the Wingdings dialect. Gaster couldn’t really speak anything other than Wingdings now. He could try, but wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear his own garbled attempts at speech worse than he was already spouting.

“DAD!!!” Papyrus exclaimed, darting forward to tackle Gaster.

Had Gaster been of his old form, he would’ve been knocked back onto the snow. As it was, he just absorbed the shock from the excited hug, and with his floating hand blobs, hugged back.

“[HELLO, PAPYRUS,]” Gaster replied.

He felt sick. Not because of the hug or anything; that warmed his non-existent heart. But another kind of nausea twisted within him, something he couldn’t quite place. He felt it was related to his thoughts, long and drawn-out in the forest. Thoughts he had yet to dismiss and close completely. And another feeling, past the nervous flutter of seeing one of his sons again for the first time in a long time, past the joy of seeing his grin... Gaster could not comprehend it.

Many feelings he’d felt were odd to him, as if they were not his own but they were being inflicted upon him anyway.

“HOW’VE YOU BEEN?? WE HAVEN’T SEEN YOU IN SO LONG,” Papyrus said as he was gently pried off of his father by shadowy appendages.

“[IT’S BEEN OK, I GUESS. COULD’VE BEEN BETTER. I MISSED YOU A LOT,]” Gaster said, attempting a smile that did not look fake and likely failing miserably. “[LET’S GO INSIDE AND WE CAN... CATCH UP, I SUPPOSE.]”

Papyrus nodded, and shut the door behind Gaster.

“[THIS PLACE IS A DUMP,]” was his immediate comment.

“SANS STILL WON’T PICK UP HIS SOCK,” Papyrus said, crossing his arms. “I’VE TRIED LEAVING HIM NOTES, BUT...”

Gaster laughed, uneasy with himself. Had it really been so long since he’d seen his sons’ house? It had. The three had lived in Hotland, but Gaster had spent most of his time in the laboratory. Eventually, Sans had joined him, spending long hours downstairs. Gaster knew that, after the incident, everything changed. Sans bought the house in Snowdin, he and Papyrus got their sentry jobs, and that was that.

At least Papyrus took care of the place. He had a penchant for work.

“[GIVE HIM TIME,]” Gaster suggested. The words were empty. He did not expect the sock to be picked up. “[ALSO, SOMETHING’S ABOUT TO BE BURNING IN THE KITCHEN.]”

“MY PASTA SAUCE!!” Papyrus yelled, running over to tend to the food. “IT’S OKAY, I CAN STILL USE THIS. THANKFULLY, I’M AN EXCELLENT COOK.”

Gaster took a seat on the couch. It jangled.

“[WHAT THE FUCK?]” he muttered to himself before remembering there was a stash of gold coins between the cushions.

While he had a moment to himself, he put in a cursory effort to calm down. His black formless body grew agitated to reflect his mood; it looked like his back was on shadowy fire. He clutched an armrest with his hand, but all he managed was to make a dripping mess.

“YOU SHOULD STAY FOR LUNCH!” Papyrus called from the kitchen. “I’M MAKING RAVIOLI.”

Gaster couldn’t reply; his inner turmoil was rising, filling him with emotions he hadn’t felt in a decade, a century, a thousand years. Maybe longer. White, dripping fingers formed claws that dragged down the battered fabric of the couch. Yellowed stuffing flew out.

In a harried breath, a terrifying blink of the eye, Gaster was off the couch. His body pulled the shadows in the house towards him, as if by command. He immediately filled the room, dark tendrils snaking out of his form and lashing at the walls. A picture frame was knocked off and glass shattered.

“DID YOU BREAK SOMETHING? IT’S OKAY, I DO THAT SOMETIMES, TOO!! I JUST CLEAN UP AND REPLACE THE PLATES AFTER, SO DON’T WORRY ABOUT IT.”

Gaster covered his face with his quivering hands. He felt an angry hum coming from the holes in palms; the void was calling out to him. No. This anger wasn’t from the void. Not from some inexplicable source in the wide expanse of space-time.

The anger was his own.

All at once, perhaps too soon and perhaps not soon enough, Gaster remembered what it was like to be angry. The rush of torrential rage that filled him would not be calmed, and his eyes lit up - one cyan, one orange. The orange light from his drooping white eye flickered like a dying bulb.

A demonic screech tore through the air, a distorted skull was summoned, and a laser eradicated half the couch.

“I NEED TO PUT THE PASTA IN THE BOWLS FIRST, OKAY??”

Gaster clawed at his face in distress. He felt himself struggling against the walls of the house, but he could not focus to the point of making any part of him incorporeal. Jagged bones erupted from the floor; magic bullets that did not actually puncture the hardwood but were deadly all the same. He was hunched over, his mass of dark body rippling like a storm.

“[STOP IT, STOP IT, STOP IT,]” he said to himself, his voice shattering into pieces. 

Why was this happening? It wasn’t as if he’d been keeping his emotions bottled up. He just... he just hadn’t felt them for a while. A long while. That didn’t mean he had to feel them all now.

“[THIS ISN’T FUCKING _FAIR!]”_

More bones rose and crashed against each other midair, followed by more laser blasts, then more bones. Sparks flew and died. Gaster would’ve aimed it all at himself if he could’ve. There was too much going on in his head. He couldn’t think, couldn’t even pick out one feeling from the next.

There was a great deal of pain.

“DO YOU WANT TO EAT NOW, OR LATER?” Papyrus asked, stepping out of the kitchen to present a bowl of ravioli.

He looked up to see Gaster’s melting visage in his equally melty hands. Somewhere deep inside their holes was the infinity of space. Somewhere much closer, bones were coming from the floor and ceiling. Gaster’s shadowy body was taking up half the house. A giant skull materialized in front of him, eyes bright and the light pooling inside of its maw even brighter.

Nobody could fault Papyrus for his confusion, witnessing the unnatural disaster looming over his living room.

And in Wingdings, a question: “[...DAD?]”

A high-pitched whine pierced the room, everything flashed white, and the floor shook.

Sans slammed the door open to see bits of matter gently floating down. He was breathing heavily as he surveyed the situation. There were claw marks in the sleeve of his blue coat - Undyne’s.

_“You have to talk to him, okay?! Papyrus, too!”_

Her words echoed in his head in the place of sound that was otherwise drained out of everything else. The look in her eyes had, for the briefest of moments, showed a deep panic. Sans hadn’t thought much of it until now. As if the look she’d fixed the horizon with... was some kind of awful foreshadowing for this.

A bowl was in pieces, bits of ceramic scattered across the hardwood floor, along with tomato sauce and upturned ravioli. Papyrus was also on the floor. He was clutching his left arm, and he was shaking.

On the other side of the room, Gaster, having exhausted himself, was standing at his regular size. He was facing the floor, but even with his pupils out like usual, Sans could tell he wasn’t actually looking at anything. There was a blankness to him, a hollowed-out kind of vibe.

Scorched bones littered the floor, and dark, smoking streaks - already fading away - marked the walls. The house was, overall, intact, with the couch suffering the brunt of the unprecedented attack. No, wait - there was also a giant hole in the wall too close to Papyrus for Sans’ comfort. It was sizzling.

Sans felt a protective anger surging through him as he stepped in front of his little brother. His left eye flashed a warning as he turned to Gaster, now tipping his head up to face him.

“get out.”

“[SANS, LISTEN, I-]”

“did you fucking hear me or not?” Sans snapped. “i told you to get out. this is my house. get the fuck out of it. now.”

A blaze of defiance sparked in Gaster’s eyes. A response to the unspoken challenge mingled with the tension in the conversation.

Sans summoned two of his skull-shaped blasters. They grinned as they always did. One cocked its head at Gaster. A dare.

“[I DIDN’T _MEAN_ TO-]”

“and i don’t care. if you’re not out of here in the next three seconds, i’m obliterating you myself.”

“[SANS-]”

Sans removed his left hand from his pocket. A bone was conjured from the floor, and rose to land firmly in his grip. He brandished it like one might a knife. His voice shifted.

“[forget being shattered across time and space. i’ll make it so there’s nothing left of you if you don’t leave right fucking now.]”

His pupils blinked out.

“[A n d d o n ’ t y o u d a r e c o m e b a c k .]”

Gaster took one look at his older son, bone in hand and backed by the very laser blasters he’d helped to create. He could sense the Determination... And behind him on the floor, Papyrus, recovering. The blast hadn’t even touched him, but being as close as he was... the pain from it had to be severe.

His anger faded. A brief vision from before the incident, of him injecting Determination into his son's eyesocket...

“[I’M SORRY.]” Gaster said before slipping into the shadows again.

Sans dropped the bone. It disappeared before even hitting the floor. With a wave of his hand, the blaster skulls disappeared, too.

“papyrus, are you okay?” he asked, turning slowly.

Papyrus just nodded.

 

The cycle of day and night was replicated in the fake sky created by the Royal Scientist who preceded Gaster. Leslie was their name, and their greatest achievement had been an underground version of the sky and of weather. Though some would argue that their contribution to the creation of the Undernet was better.

Snowdin was dark like the overworld night, lit only by the lights of those still awake at whatever hour it was. It had to be late; Gaster knew that Leslie had constructed a year-round twelve-hour day and twelve-hour night.

The seasons were mirrored somewhat in the sections of the underground, but not in the shifting of the weather. So Gaster didn’t bother keeping track of time. All he knew was that, out of all the events he was certain of and out of everything else he could predict, he hadn’t even seen his outburst coming. Ironic, considering it was his own action.

“[I FUCKED UP,]” he said.

Now he felt no more anger, only regret, sadness, remorse. Grief.

 _‘Everyone does that sooner or later. The important thing is that you’re willing to forgive yourself for it,’_ Grillby replied.

“[TRUE. BUT SOMETIMES YOU DO SHIT THAT CAN’T BE FORGIVEN BY ANYONE.]”

Grillby set a rum and coke on the counter. Gaster did not touch it.

_‘You have to be able to forgive yourself, Gaster. I think there are times we need to be hard on ourselves, but if we’re like that forever, we can’t move on. We have to be able to move on.’_

Gaster tossed back the drink. The ice cubes sank into him.

“[OUR DEEDS CAN BE MISCONSTRUED FOR WORSE THAN THEY ARE AT TIMES, BUT THERE’S REALLY NOTHING EVEN REMOTELY SALVAGEABLE ABOUT WHAT I DID. NOTHING. PAPYRUS DIDN’T DO ANYTHING TO DESERVE BEING HURT; HE NEVER HAS... I JUST... LOST CONTROL.]”

Recounting it out loud reminded Gaster of the guilt.

_‘It happens. What you did was terrible, but Papyrus of all people will forgive you. Sooner or later, likely sooner, he’ll welcome you back with open arms.’_

“[YEAH... NO DOUBT ABOUT THAT. BUT SANS WON’T. WHENEVER UNDYNE FINDS OUT, SHE WON’T, EITHER.]”

Gaster knew that both Sans and Undyne would pulverize him, in tandem, on the spot, dared he show his face to them. But unlike him, neither of them would lose control of their powers. Undyne would never accidentally rain a shower of energy spears down on an innocent. Sans would never let his blasters and bones loose, despite the severity of his powers.

“[THERE’S MORE TO FORGIVENESS THAN BEING FORGIVEN. I HONESTLY DON’T DESERVE IT. LIKE, WE’VE BOTH DONE SOME FUCKED UP SHIT. EVERYONE DOES SOME FUCKED UP SHIT SOONER OR LATER. BUT I’VE FORGIVEN MYSELF FOR A LOT OF THINGS. IT’S GONNA BE REAL FUCKING HARD TO FORGIVE MYSELF FOR THIS.]”

Grillby peered at him. He wiped a glass clean.

 _‘At least you didn’t kill him,’_ he replied in barely-visible blinks.

That shut Gaster up, because it was true. He’d only singed Papyrus’ arm. Though there was nothing even remotely okay about that, the fact remained: it could have been worse.

“[DO YOU... THINK I SHOULD TALK TO TORI?]”

_‘Toriel? I haven’t seen her for a long time. She just... vanished one day. Something tells me she’s not dead, but...’_

“[SHE ISN’T,]” Gaster confirmed. “[SHE LIVES IN THE RUINS. AMAZING, I KNOW. THE SWITCH FROM THE SPARKLY PALACE TO A PLACE LIKE THAT, BUT IT’S NOT SO BAD. SHE’S RESILIENT. ANYWAY, SHE HAS A HOUSE THERE BUT I GUARANTEE, AS SOON AS SHE AND SANS MEET, THEY’LL BE IN LOVE. THEY’VE SPOKEN TO EACH OTHER EVER SINCE THAT ONE DAY HE WENT TO PRACTICE KNOCK-KNOCK JOKES AT THE DOOR. HER DOOR, REALLY.]

[THEY TALK TO EACH OTHER FOR FUCKING HOURS. ALMOST EVERY SINGLE DAY. SHE KNOWS OF PAPYRUS, AND YOU KNOW HOW SMART SHE IS. IF I TELL HER ABOUT THIS, SHE’LL MAKE THE CONNECTION RIGHT AWAY THAT IT WAS HIM. EVEN IF I PUT THINGS VAGUELY.]”

Grillby thought about it. _‘Don’t you miss your best friend, though?’_ he asked.

“[YEAH... I MEAN, I DO. BUT THE FUTURE BITS OF THIS TIMELINE, ALL THE KNOWLEDGE I HAD OF ALL THE TIMELINES, IT’S FADING AWAY. THERE ARE CERTAIN EVENTS THAT STILL SHINE IN MY HEAD, BUT NONE OF THEM ARE AS MINOR AS A SINGLE CONVERSATION.]”

 _‘Sometimes all it takes is a single conversation to change everything,’_ Grillby said, shrugging.

“[YEAH, TELL THAT TO FUCKING GOREY.]”

_‘Have you spoken to him?’_

“[HE WAS THE FIRST PERSON I SPOKE TO.]”

_‘I see.’_

“[NO YOU DON’T. YOU DON’T HAVE EYES,]” Gaster reminded him. The joke was an old one that he was still fond of, but he couldn’t bring himself to derive joy from it now.

_‘I feel like he’d have advice for you and your sons, even if his own children never... lived to be as old.’_

Gaster sighed. “[A DAMN SHAME. THEY WERE HILARIOUS. HE GETS A LITTLE TOUCHY OVER THE SUBJECT, BUT I CAN’T REALLY BLAME HIM, ALL CIRCUMSTANCES - AND TORI - CONSIDERED.]” His expression soured upon bringing up Toriel. “[I’M SUPPOSED TO VISIT HIM AGAIN, I GUESS. I HAVEN’T YET. DUNNO WHEN THE BEST TIME IS. HE’S A GODDAMN... HE’S INDECISIVE.]”

_‘The queen would never forgive him for his cowardice.’_

“[MAYBE ONE DAY. NOT ANYTIME SOON, BUT SHE WILL ONE DAY. HE WANTS HER TO FORGIVE HIM MORE THAN ANYTHING.]”

Grillby didn’t reply to that; he had a feeling more was about to come. He was right.

“[LOOK, I GET IT. OKAY, I DON’T. NOT REALLY. I GET HE CARES ABOUT HER, BUT HOW LONG HAS IT BEEN? HOW MANY CENTURIES HAS IT BEEN SINCE SHE LEFT HIM? SHE’S BEEN PRETTY FUCKING CLEAR ON HER BOUNDARIES. LIKE, LITERAL BOUNDARIES. SHE SHUT HERSELF IN THE GODDAMN RUINS TO GET AWAY FROM HIM AND OPPOSE HIS PLAN.]”

Gaster studied his hands.

“[NEITHER OF THEM ARE PERFECT. NEITHER OF THEIR PLANS WERE PERFECT. BOTH OF THEM HAVE FLAWS, AND I’M SURE GOREY WOULD ACCEPT THAT OFF THE BAT IF HE WAS GIVEN THE CHANCE TO BE REDEEMED BY HIS EX-GIRL, Y’KNOW? I JUST... I DON’T GET HOW HE STILL... FEELS SO DESPERATE FOR HER. ALL THIS TIME, AND HE CAN’T FUCKING MOVE ON, IT’S LIKE HE-]”

Gaster’s hand thumped to the counter as he cut himself off. The abrupt stop was enough to make Grillby look up from his next drink mix.

“[I’M A FUCKING HYPOCRITE. OH MY GOD. I CAN’T BELIEVE MYSELF RIGHT NOW.]”

 _‘What?’_ Grillby asked.

“[I’M THE SAME WAY, AREN’T I?]” Gaster asked, voice brimming with static. “[I’M SO PISSED RIGHT NOW. DOING SHIT RIGHT IS SO HARD, FUCKING HELL!]”

_‘Gaster, what are you talking about?’_

Grillby instinctively backed up as Gaster’s shadow tendrils whipped the air. A horrifying screech emanated from Gaster, and yet at the same time not from him. The white noise grew, and Grillby shrank back further, confused, but not scared.

When the bone came spinning at him, he ducked. It shattered three bottles sitting on the shelf before falling to the floor. Grillby touched the warped thing, and it melted away.

 _‘Gaster, please calm down,’_ Grillby asked, even though Gaster couldn’t see him on the floor.

Another bone flew out, taking down three more bottles, before Gaster said something in a language even Grillby didn’t know. The crackle of static disappeared, along with Gaster, into the shadows. Grillby was left with six broken bottles around him. This would take a while to clean up.


	4. You're My Pastime

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> merry shitscram, everybody. tags updated in a sec. //

“[OH GOD, OH GOD. I FUCKED UP. AGAIN. I FUCKED UP AGAIN. PLEASE... OH FUCKING HELL, WHAT DO I DO? THERE’S NOBODY... I...]”

Gaster was pacing in a place he knew by heart, even if it was drastically different now. The Hotland laboratory.

“I-I don’t know...” Alphys replied, claws clicking together. When others were nervous around her, she got even more nervous.

“[DOC. ALPHYS. AL. LISTEN... I DIDN’T MEAN TO... TO DO ANY OF THE SHIT I DID. I KNOW NONE OF IT WAS OKAY. LIKE, SUPER FUCKING UN-OKAY.]”

“Yeah, i-it really sounds like it was all un-okay...” Alphys mumbled.

“[I DIDN’T THINK BEING A PART OF THE VOID WOULD DO THIS TO ME, DOC. I MEAN, I GUESS NONE OF US COULD’VE KNOWN... I’M NOT THE KIND OF PERSON TO HAVE FEELINGS A LOT. NOT LIKE THIS, AT LEAST. IT KIND OF SUCKS.]”

“F-feelings do kind of suck.”

“[...DID SANS OR UNDYNE TALK TO YOU ABOUT WHAT HAPPENED?]”

Alphys gave a big sigh. She rubbed her arm almost sheepishly.

“Undyne t-told me. She came in here all angry... a-and... she told me everything. Sans was the one w-who told her. She, uh... she was also told not to... t-talk to you. A-and she told me the same thing... Not to talk to you.”

“[THAT MAKES SENSE.]”

“Y-yeah...” Alphys said. She looked down, then back up to Gaster again. “Listen, D-Doctor. I don’t think I can f-forgive you either. N-not yet, at least. What you did... w-well, it was pretty bad. You h-hurt him pretty bad, you know. I-infinite knowledge, and you still c-couldn’t stop yourself from d-doing this...? I... There’s a part of me that d-doesn’t quite... f-feel I should talk to you.”

“[HE’S STILL HURT?]”

Alphys made a face.

“N-not physically. He’s p-pretty much all fine now... Physically. H-he’s sadder than I’ve ever s-seen him.” She frowned now. “Y-you really did a number on him, d-didn’t you?” she asked. It was a clear accusation, unneeded but sprouting from her quiet anger.

“[DIDN’T HIT HIM DIRECTLY, BUT YEAH, APPARENTLY I DID,]” Gaster admitted.

“P-please leave now,” Alphys said. “I d-don’t want to see you anymore. I’ll forgive you w-when Undyne does.”

Gaster laughed a little, though not because he found Alphys’ words humorous in any way. He laughed because this was the kind of treatment he hadn’t quite anticipated, yet knew he deserved. He nodded, and shuffled back into the shadows without a goodbye.

He supposed there was one more person he could probably talk to now. One more person who could speak to him, even if he didn’t really want to talk to him.

Asgore.

 

“[...AND THAT’S THE STORY OF HOW I MANAGED TO ALIENATE FIVE PEOPLE IN ONE FELL SWOOP. INCLUDING BOTH MY OWN SONS.]”

“Um... That’s pretty... wow.”

“[IF YOU’RE MAD AT ME TOO, TELL ME NOW. I’D RATHER KNOW SOONER THAN LATER. I WON’T BLAME YOU.]”

“I’m not mad, Gaster.”

“[YOU SURE ABOUT THAT?]”

“I’m sure.”

Gaster settled back down in the chair. The royal dining room was too vast to be filled with just two people. He was half-tempted to make himself big to fill more seats, but then he thought about his unseen outrage that Papyrus had been hurt by, and he decided against it.

“[GOREY, I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO. I STILL... I STILL CAN’T EVEN FORGIVE MY OWN SELF. I... I WANTED TO ASK YOU. YOU’RE FULL OF KNOWLEDGE ABOUT THINGS, AREN’T YOU?]”

Asgore laughed a bit. “I suppose I do know a thing or two. Such is the way of things when you’ve been alive as long as us. We see things, we learn things... Gaster, haven’t you made worse mistakes in the past? Haven’t we all?”

Gaster stared at the long, wooden table. It was scuffed by time, worn, but not as much as one might expect for such an old piece of furniture.

“[WE HAVE,]” Gaster agreed. “[EVEN IN THE COURSE OF A SINGLE YEAR, WE DO A LOT OF BAD THINGS. GOOD THINGS, TOO, BUT... SOMETIMES THE BAD OUTWEIGHS THE GOOD. AND THERE’S THAT PROBLEM... IT DOESN’T MATTER HOW MUCH GOOD YOU DO, YOU CAN’T JUST ERASE THE BAD. WHAT YOU’VE DONE IS WHAT YOU’VE DONE. A FORGIVEN APOLOGY DOESN’T CHANGE THE FACT THAT YOU HURT SOMEONE IN THE FIRST PLACE.]”

Asgore’s fingers knitted together. “If you’d ended up hurting your other son, what would you have done then?”

“[OH, SANS WOULDN’T HAVE GOTTEN HIT IN THE FIRST PLACE. IT DOESN’T MATTER THAT MY POWERS ARE OLDER; HIS ARE A LOT STRONGER. MORE REFINED AND SHIT BECAUSE OF... DETERMINATION... REASONS.]” Gaster paused. “[BUT, IF WE’RE SPEAKING OF THE IMPOSSIBLE... HAD I HURT HIM, I WOULD STILL FEEL CRUSHING REMORSE. HE KNOWS TOO MUCH, HAS BEEN THROUGH TOO MUCH TO DESERVE MORE PAIN. BUT I WOULDN’T FEEL LIKE I DO NOW. I HURT PAPYRUS, NOT HIM.]”

“Yes, true...” Asgore replied, appearing to be in deep contemplation. “You must remain strong, though.”

He took a sip of tea, and his expression soured, though not at the drink.

“We’ve all made unforgivable mistakes, Gaster. I think I would know this best of all. I am sorry you hurt your son.”

Gaster looked up, but Asgore would not make eye contact. Either he was actually just that lost in thought, or he didn’t want to look into Gaster’s eyesockets and see in them his own regret, reflected.

“A thousand years more will not change the deeds I have done,” Asgore murmured, closing his eyes. “And a thousand regrets won’t either. What’s done is done, and what _you_ must know is how the flow of time may wear our memories and actions like a river does stone, but some rocks erode slower than others.” He smiled ruefully. “When you have murdered, expect those rocks to be the biggest. It is hard to forget.”

He spoke to Gaster now, but he still refrained from making eye contact as he clasped his hands together.

“You have hurt your son - both sons - but you have not broken them. Pray it is not too late, Gaster.”

“[THEY’RE STRONGER THAN I AM. PAPYRUS HAS HIS OPTIMISM, SANS IS LITERALLY STRONGER THAN I AM.]”

“Yes, that's... Good, I suppose. Perhaps you should try talking to them.”

“[I KNOW I’LL HAVE TO. I CAN SEE IT WRITTEN IN THE STARS OR SHIT. BUT NOT SOON,]” Gaster said. He could also see how uncomfortable Asgore looked with the whole conversation.

What was he thinking about? Toriel, perhaps? His broken heart whose many wounds would not heal, would not be sewn even through the passage of time? Every death was Asgore’s responsibility. Even if he did not kill every single child himself, the plan was his responsibility in the end, and he knew that. It had to be a burden on him. Constantly, and it didn’t help that his beloved wife was no longer there to help him through it.

They’d been married for a while. Gaster had envied their closeness, but never had he allowed it to eat at him. He was married to his job and he knew that. He was close to several people, but he spent the most time with his co-workers.

Gaster was not used to having the foundation of his humble support pyramid being yanked away, out from under him. Simply because... he hadn’t needed a support pyramid in the void. It was just him, and everything else in existence. The endless void played no favourites, and Gaster knew at this time, he couldn’t afford to play favourites, either.

Relationships were just too complicated for that.

“[I’M GONNA GO TAKE A HIKE NOW,]” Gaster said, sliding out of the chair. “[HIKING’S GOOD FOR YOUR BONES.]”

Asgore looked at him, eyebrow raised. “Do you still have bones...?” he asked.

Gaster huffed, reached into the expansive void that was his torso, and pulled out a femur from the roomy confines of nonexistence. He twirled it before stuffing it back in, which was weird for Asgore to watch.

“[I HAVE MORE BONES THAN EVER, GOREY.]”

 

Gaster wasn’t sure where he was going, nor was he sure where he wanted to end up. He felt a little lost. There were friends from the past with whom he would’ve liked to speak, but none of them were ever that close. Most had ended up in his circle of companionship by way of osmosis, as Gaster had been dear to both royals, and them, dear to him. Godfather of their children, and to him they were simply his best friends.

Gaster did not think about how some of his old friends were now dead, their dust scattered on their notebooks, clothing, picture frames.

He’d shuffled out of the castle and roamed New Home for a bit, not speaking to anyone. It wasn’t a busy day, and he was thankful for that. He would’ve liked to amble around in the peace of the city by himself, but that wasn’t realistic.

He did not slip into the confines of the shadows.

Though they would welcome him as much as the non-sentient absence of light could technically welcome him, he wanted to just... wander. Wander without a purpose, perhaps even without an end.

It wasn’t as if he couldn’t give his life purpose. He did not depend entirely on his friends, nor his sons, as precious as they were to him. But he’d clearly underestimated how their presence had brightened his days. Even Undyne, whom he didn’t personally know, was someone he’d like to meet. After all, she’d been trained by Asgore and now trained Papyrus and taught him how to cook. Not to mention, she and Alphys were together in some timelines.

His sons’ connections were important to him, too, even if they weren’t really his own. He couldn’t even bear to think of Asgore, who didn’t want to speak to him. Nor of Toriel, whom Gaster hadn’t even met up with yet. And Grillby... Gaster hadn’t visited Snowdin since his destruction, partially because he knew Sans could be there, and partially because he just... wasn’t sure how to apologize.

Gaster was not good at apologies that required his honest emotion.

But he knew he would have to learn. Even a monster as old as himself would have to learn, and there was no excuse otherwise. Though certain death by laser seemed an apt reason to be apprehensive, Gaster realized, all in all, he had nothing to fear. Least of all something as trivial as death.

He sidled up to a grey brick wall. He’d never been fond of New Home’s external drabness, but at least most citizens had the good taste to add colour within their respective apartments and such. For instance, Sans and Papyrus had a childhood friend whose apartment interior was a nice shade of pale spring green.

Gaster could probably look into a window and spot a pop of colour, but he decided against it. Just walking around surrounded by grey brought dusty old memories back to him. He’d spent enough time in New Home due to its proximity to Asgore’s castle, and the school named after him that he’d been rather fond of and had lectured at.

None of those memories helped Gaster out much now. He needed to be able to tell his friends and family he was sorry without making it sound too insincere. Being contrite was something Gaster deliberately avoided; his demeanor had been constructed and adjusted enough to shield any inner softness. It was easier to be detached when you were experimenting on other monsters.

He couldn’t pull that off to apologize. Though the jokes had become a part of him, he would have to strip them away, at least for a little bit. He didn’t expect anyone to accept his ‘sorry’, but he knew he’d feel better if they knew.

The coolness of the brick wall seeped into him, and in the blink of an eye, he emerged from the shadow behind Sans’ house. A door creaked open, and he started, much to his inner shame.

“what the hell?”

“[SANS! I DIDN’T MEAN TO... INTRUDE, BUT... I...]” Gaster began, his hands kneading together and fingers melting into each other.

Sans removed his glasses and stuffed them into a pocket, along with his hands.

“i’m listening. make it good,” he said, with a cold grin that was somehow worse than a genuine frown.

“[OKAY. BEFORE YOU KILL ME - AND I UNDERSTAND IF YOU DO...]” Gaster said, straightening just a bit in minuscule relief. He trailed off because his plan had been to speak to Grillby first. He hadn’t expected Sans to be present at the very moment he dropped in. “[I WANTED TO TELL YOU I’M SORRY.]”

Sans laughed a bit, but the gesture was no less frosty than his malevolent expression. “tell _me_ you’re sorry? why don’t you tell papyrus?” he asked. “he’s the one you almost killed.”

Gaster winced visibly. “[I PROBABLY WOULD’VE LOOKED FOR YOU FIRST ANYWAY. I KNOW, AFTER SEEING THAT, YOU CAN’T POSSIBLY TRUST ME.]”

“i don’t,” Sans retorted, his eye gleaming cyan for the briefest of moments. “i should’ve known to be cautious, but i got selfish by leaving papyrus alone for even a second. and i should’ve known that whatever the void did to you was bad news. there are people... people i have to live for.”

“[SANS. SANS, I KNOW THIS. I KIND OF KNOW A LOT OF THINGS. MOST THINGS, SOMETIMES. BUT I DIDN’T KNOW I’D LOSE CONTROL. I’M WILLING TO TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR MY ACTIONS. I KNOW WHAT I DID WAS BAD, BUT I DON’T THINK YOUR DEATH THREAT IS GOING TO HELP ANYONE.]”

“if it keeps papyrus away from you, i’m perfectly content leaving that over your head.”

Gaster sighed, but it looked more like dark shadows heaving in the less-dark shadow of the house than a sigh.

“[I AM GENUINELY SORRY FOR WHAT I DID, AND I’M SORRY YOU HAD TO SEE. BUT I’M GLAD YOU STOPPED ME, BECAUSE EVEN THOUGH I’D STOPPED BY THE TIME YOU ARRIVED, IT WAS PROBABLY FOR THE BEST.]”

“you wrecked my fucking house.”

“[SANS, PLEASE. WE’VE ALWAYS HAD MORE GOLD THAN WE’VE NEEDED AND YOU KNOW THAT VERY WELL.]”

Sans glared. “i haven’t touched your gold. and you should know that,” he said. “i paid for the house myself.”

“[I KNOW THAT. I’M PRETTY PROUD OF YOU, ACTUALLY. I’D TELL YOU TO STOP BREAKING THE LAW TO MAKE DOSH, BUT I KNOW YOU DON’T CARE.]”

At that, Sans shifted in his shoes.

“[I DIDN’T COME HERE TO BEG FOR YOUR FORGIVENESS. WE KNOW EACH OTHER BETTER THAN THAT, SANS. YOU DON’T HAVE TO BELIEVE ME, AND YOU DON’T HAVE TO ACCEPT IT, BUT I DID WANT TO TELL YOU. SOONER OR LATER. I DIDN’T HAVE MUCH OF AN OPTION HERE, THOUGH.]”

“yeah, okay. i’m hearing you out, and i’ll think about it,” Sans muttered, but he didn’t look particularly forgiving.

Gaster wasn’t surprised.

“how’d you get here so fast?” Sans asked. He sounded interested, but not in a friendly way. The question was clinical.

“[VOID-TRAVEL,]” Gaster replied with a half-shrug.

“really? what’s the point when you can teleport like me?”

“[DUNNO, VOID’S JUST COMFIER THAN LINES OF CODE.]”

Sans huffed. “yeah, but traversing the game’s code is so much more convenient and accurate. you don’t have to find a shadow or get out of anyone’s sight or whatever... you just bend their reality a little and drop in.”

“[IT JUST MAKES ME FEEL WEIRD AND GLITCHY WHEN I DO IT NOW. I DON’T LIKE IT. ALSO, YOU’RE A FUCKING HYPOCRITE WHEN YOU BASICALLY TELL THEM NOT TO HACK THE GAME, BUT YOU’RE CHEATING BY TELEPORTING USING THE ROOM NUMBERS AND SHIT,]” Gaster said, shivering and artifacting a little. He raised a hand - less drippy now - and waved it at your general direction.

At that, Sans’ smile showed the faintest hint of a real smile. Perhaps not a fully forgiving look, but inching its way there.

“cheating isn’t the same as hacking. ‘sides, not like i’m affecting anyone but myself by doing it.”

“[YOU FRUSTRATE THE ANOMALY, I THINK.]”

“not the human.”

“[NO, NOT THE HUMANS,]” Gaster agreed with a small nod. “[THE _REAL_ ANOMALY. YOU KNOW, THE ONE WHO HAS MORE POWER OVER THE CODE THAN EVEN YOU.]”

“don’t remind me. their staring gets creepy, but fortunately, i’ve never lost a staring contest.”

“[THE OTHER ANOMALY ALSO STARES,]” Gaster pointed out. “[CHARA, OR WHATEVER THEIR FUCKING NAME IS TODAY. THEY’RE ALWAYS KIND OF AROUND THE HUMAN, BUT ALSO NOT REALLY. THEY’VE BEEN ON MY ASS FOR A WHILE AND EVERY TIME I REMEMBER, MY BACK ITCHES.]”

“ok, now you’re just making shit up,” Sans said, which was appropriate considering it was safer to play subservient, ignorant, and out-of-the-loop even under the eye of the omniscient.

“[I AM NOT MAKING SHIT UP. THEY KNOW TOO MUCH, AND YET THE ONLY ONE THEY’LL... HELP... IS THE HUMAN. I MEAN, THEY DON’T HAVE ANY INFLUENCE ON ANYONE BUT THE HUMAN. THEY CAN ONLY WATCH... BUT IT’S STILL FUCKING CREEPY,]” Gaster said, which was annoying because he knew that, in the right place and the right _time,_ I was to blame for the timelines being consumed.

But, hey.

“[I JUST WANT TO TALK TO PAPYRUS AND GRILLBY, BUT THEIR VOICE IS LOUD AS FUCK IN MY HEAD RIGHT NOW. SHUT UP, ANOMALY. I CAN FUCKING HEAR YOU. JUST BECAUSE WE’RE NOT LIKE THE OTHER MONSTERS AND HUMANS DOESN’T MEAN YOU HAVE TO BE A FUCKING DICK ABOUT IT! WE BOTH KNOW TOO MUCH BUT AT LEAST I CAN PRETEND TO LIVE MY LIFE. YOUR JEALOUSY IS GIVING ME A HEADACHE. DEMONIC PRICK.]”

The possibility of a permanent timeline destruction isn’t entirely my fault. It’s mostly yours, if you want. But I don’t feel like wiping anything because Frisk decided to leave their knife down this timeline, so everything is going just peachy.

Let’s get back to Gaster and his hilarious attempt at living life despite being able to traverse and manipulate code. Must suck to be bound to that, huh?

“[GO AWAY,]” Gaster said, waving at the air above him as if that would solve anything.

Sans was just giving him a funny look now, because he couldn’t hear me and thus didn’t understand what was going on. To him, his dad had just finished giving a piss-poor apology that he would eventually feel obliged to accept. And then he started talking about UnderTale and its code, and then talking to what Sans could only perceive as himself, or nobody, or an imaginary friend, or maybe an invisible monster.

“[JUST GO THE FUCK BACK TO BUGGING THE HUMAN! I’M WALKING AWAY, SEE? NEVERMIND, YOU CAN SEE EVERYTHING. DON’T ANSWER THAT,]” Gaster yelled, shuffling away from Sans, not really walking due to his lack of legs and feet.

Sans, not taking his eyes off of Gaster, took a few tentative steps back before slipping back into his secret lab room that we can inspect if you obtain his retconned bedroom key. The broken machine sat in there somewhere, covered with an ugly mauve sheet.

Frisk wouldn’t be returning to it. They were nearing the end of their journey now, and Sans would eventually be needed at the Last Corridor. Gaster, on the other hand...

He was wrapped in a snowy fog, making his way into Waterfall to drown in his thoughts. It was hard for him to muster up the will to seek out Papyrus, or to ask Grillby for a moment during his peak work hours.

Sadly, not all failures can be covered up with a big tarp. Else Gaster might’ve buried himself in the void, under a mountain of sheets. It had to be difficult for him to have to solve his problems the way everyone else did, and it _was_ difficult for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \\\ i don't have any excuses. except that i've been sick for the past few days. otherwise no excuses.


	5. There is a Gift in Tomorrow

Gaster napped for a while. Then he napped for a while longer, in that sad purple bed of his that sat in the void, not too far from a pile of ashes and a burnt metal frame. He slept fitfully, and upon waking up, lashed out at his void room. He screamed and cursed and shattered impossible objects again and again. They were conjured for the express purpose of being destroyed by his anger.

Then he slept some more, and upon waking up, he was filled with sadness. He thought about how Sans slept all the time nowadays. About how Papyrus almost never did. It wasn’t necessarily unhealthy for either of them, because skeleton physiology was funny sometimes, but it wasn’t necessarily a good thing either.

Gaster tried not to focus on that. He wanted to clear things up with Papyrus. He really did. To be able to tell his son he didn’t mean to show such an ugly side of reality when Papyrus certainly deserved nicer than the treatment he’d received. And Sans was just a whole force of nature on his own.

It was weird fearing both of his sons for wildly different reasons. It was weird fearing Asgore, one of his closest friends even if he wasn’t quite equipped to deal with Gaster at the moment. It was weird fearing Grillby, whom Gaster couldn’t think about. He wasn’t sure why. It was weirdest of all fearing himself.

He did not want to fear himself.

Gaster’s hand blobs melted together before he pulled them apart again. An odd nervous gesture that replaced his former habit of tapping his fingers together and wringing his hands.

Being awake was no fun. In the void, there was no day or night. Gaster could sleep for as long as he wanted to, but he felt the hum of future events tugging at him. He flopped back into bed though he had a feeling he’d need to get up eventually anyway.

Not too soon, though. Another nap was in order. Maybe five. Gaster was starting to understand how Sans felt all the time.

 

“[...YOU KNOW, GRILLBY, I APPRECIATE IT. REALLY. BUT EVEN IF YOU’RE WILLING TO FORGIVE ME... I JUST... I JUST CAN’T. MAYBE SOON. HOPEFULLY SOON... BUT NOT QUITE YET. I WANT TO BE A BETTER PERSON. THERE HAS TO BE A WAY TO GET MYSELF IN CONTROL AGAIN.]

“[THERE’LL ALWAYS BE THOSE PISSPOOR TIMES WHEN I GET TOO ANGRY AT SOMETHING. MAYBE THAT’S JUST ME RELEASING ENERGY AND SHIT I DIDN’T KNOW I HAD PENT UP INSIDE OF ME FOR SO LONG. MAYBE I’LL JUST BE ANGRY FOR SOME OTHER REASON. I CAN’T PREDICT THE FUTURE, Y’KNOW? BAD SHIT’S GONNA HAPPEN SOMETIMES AND THAT’S JUST HOW IT GOES.]”

Grillby patted Gaster on the arm lightly.

 _‘That’s a beautiful shade of orange,’_ he said, flames blinking.

“[WHAT? ARE YOU USING THE SPACE-TIME CONTINUUM AS A MIRROR AGAIN? AS APPEALING AS IT IS TO STARE AT YOURSELF VIA MY SEMI-CORPOREAL BODY, I CAN’T SAY NOW’S THE BEST TIME.]”

Grillby would’ve smiled if he could. In his mind’s eye was a memory of the overworld, a place he was oddly nostalgic about. And somewhere, many years ago, he could see a brilliant forest in the autumn, lit up with red, orange, yellows.

 

Waterfall was a pleasant place, probably Gaster’s favourite area in the entire Underground. It was quiet and dark. Respite from the expectations of those who depended on his work and research. He was rather fond of the corridors and the marsh where lights flitted about, glowing and fading almost like fireflies, but not quite.

No wonder the fragments of his being chose to manifest in one of those hallways. It was in the rarer timelines that he met the human, but... it meant something to him. That someone could be aware of him, even for just a little bit. That someone had the chance to care about him, when everybody else didn’t even know of him.

Almost everybody else.

Although Sans remembered him and had worked tirelessly for him, well... There had to be an end. Gaster understood why he gave up trying, and that was because to retrieve him was, in all seriousness, impossible.

Perhaps Gaster was never meant to return, but when his consciousness tugged at the code with a feeling that was almost feral, with a burning desire that couldn’t be put out, the code just gave way to him. Did it make sense? No. Did most things make sense? Again, no.

The manifestation behind the door required a great deal of effort and aligned stars, yet at the same time, it really didn’t. Some things just... happened. Some things just happened for fun. Some things were unintentional but they ended up happening anyway. Gaster knew that very well. He was pretty good at making unintentional things happen, which could result in breakthrough studies or a bad time for everyone involved. There was no in between.

Among the bright yellow lights, Gaster could truly be alone. There was little chance of passersby bugging him. All he had was his own shadowy self and the murmur of the echo flowers, bouncing their messages to each other. Again and again they’d speak their words, until all the syllables mixed up, resulting in a creepy jumbled mess... Until another monster spoke again, gracing their petals with a new voice to repeat.

Gaster kneeled down, but it wasn’t really kneeling. More like pooling himself so as to lower his general body, closer to the ground. He cupped a flower in his hands, feeling its cyan petals graze against the void in his palms. They shivered.

Had he the physical capability, he might’ve cleared his throat before speaking. As it was, he just spoke:

“[I AM A BIG FUCK.]”

The second the flower starting repeating what he said, Gaster laughed out loud. The flower quivered as it repeated the Wingdings message, spouting it to the illuminated air.

Gaster straightened up again, tempted to wade into the marsh. He’d feel the cold and the water and the plants, but none of them would bother him. He could just keep shuffling deeper into Waterfall, as far as he wished.

Somewhere, the echo flowers and typha stopped growing. The cyan rivers stopped glowing. The little yellow lights stopped floating. Somewhere, deep in Waterfall’s caverns, it was perfectly dark and silent with the exception of the occasional water drip or similar. Maybe not even that. Maybe there was a pocket of space that was... peaceful. Truly peaceful. Or...?

Gaster laughed to himself again, not so loudly this time. Maybe a little more somber-sounding this time.

“[LIKE THE VOID,]” he said, still laughing.

It was funny. All this time, and he’d finally escaped the void, but he... he couldn’t help coming back to it. In some ways - perhaps more than he thought - he kept wanting to go back to it. In some ways, being shrouded in void was better than the brightness and loudness of existence.

Gaster missed the void. With every fiber of him, he missed the void. Even though he could become nothing again at any point, or just stay in space forever, he just couldn’t. He couldn’t bear to leave his friends and family. Not again. And he especially didn’t want to leave Sans and Alphys, simply because their remembering him made things all the more difficult for them both.

The walls glittered with crystals, and the ceiling reminded Gaster of starlight. He reached out for the rocks, but dropped his hand again as he looked up, up to the starry ceiling. It reminded Gaster of midnights spent with Asgore and Toriel, pointing out constellations and being introspective and sharing their thoughts on the universe.

The two of them always had a lot to say. Gaster did, too, but he preferred listening to them. Even as the two Boss Monsters fell in love, he still loved their long chats under the moonlight. Never would they leave him out. Asgore was Gaster’s oldest friend. Toriel was his best friend simply because the two had a thing for lengthy chats that would bore most others. She understood him better than Asgore, who, though surprisingly perceptive for one of his demeanor, could still be a bit too oblivious. He hadn’t noticed Gaster liking him for centuries, so what was to be expected?

Gaster learned to expect little in that front. Even if Asgore, like Toriel, noticed his worse days, no matter how well he concealed it, that didn’t mean he’d notice Gaster’s true feelings for him. Why should he, when he already had the girl of his dreams? So Gaster supposed that was a reason good as any. It didn’t help much in terms of the turmoil still festering inside of him, but it was something to hold onto.

A light in the dark, if you will.

Gaster knew there was more to living than loving an individual. He had his work, and his two brilliant assistants. Of course, Sans was livid. Alphys was upset, too, along with Undyne. But one day, they would find it in them to forgive him, right? It was silly for Gaster to be so hung up over their anger, but he’d depended on them for so long. It was absurd. The Royal Scientist being so reliant on his son and apprentice. He just couldn’t help it.

After Asgore and Toriel got married, it was difficult for Gaster to spend all his off-work time with them. So instead of doing that, he just worked more often. It pained him to know that his poor habits had rubbed off on both Sans and Alphys, but they’d grown to know better than all-nighters and sustaining themselves with ramen and soda.

Gaster really couldn’t help it, though. Really couldn’t. A part of him still yearned to depend on Sans and Alphys because the two had been diligent in their work, yet equally diligent in keeping him in line when he got too immersed. They were his reality check... just like Toriel had been. Once upon a time, Toriel had been the one to tell him when it was time for lights out. She was lenient, but fair. Reasonable. Practical. And for that, Gaster loved her.

He wished he could talk to her now. She would clap her furry hands on his shoulders, and speak to him like she did to no other person. Because Gaster understood her, and she understood him. Gaster was an old skeleton, and Toriel, despite being an adult Boss Monster, was young to him. In many ways, she still was, right now. But that mattered not. She had a cleverness, a quick-wittedness that some days, he couldn’t even quite keep up with.

It was inevitable that the two would become best friends.

One of Gaster’s fondest memories had been of them in the overworld. A fresh spring day, bursting with life in all Her verdant glory. A cool breeze rippled over blades of emerald grass, dropping white petals from trees above. The forest clearing was leaf-dappled at the edges, but still sweet, still warm.

Toriel, with the sleeping Asgore’s head in her lap, had her fingers grazing against wildflower stems. Her long, almost elegant sundress, draped over her like a familiar purple cape over Asgore’s back. Her glasses were folded onto the neckline of her dress, nestled against a lace fringe.

“It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?” she’d asked.

And Gaster had replied, not in Wingdings.

“IT IS. NOT MANY DAYS LIKE THIS.”

Toriel had nodded, because she knew. Springtime was over romanticized. Of course she knew. Not everyday was picture-perfect, but some days...

“And is it worth it, to know peace?” she’d asked him, fixing him with a gaze so piercing he couldn’t maintain eye contact. As if she had any idea that the war between monsters and humans was to sprout up. As if she had any idea that the current king would die and be replaced by the person sleeping on her lap.

“IS PEACE NOT WORTH KNOWING?”

And at that, Toriel had smiled, looked down with eyes closed, and shook her head. Just the tiniest bit.

“Perhaps we should be more grateful for what we have.”

“TORI... WE CAN ALWAYS BE MORE GRATEFUL. WE TAKE EVERYTHING FOR GRANTED.”

Toriel rubbed her right eye, stifled a yawn.

“Yes, indeed we do.”

“BUT THERE ARE FEW PEOPLE WHO ARE SUCCESSFUL WITH THAT...”

Another pause, with the lull in conversation broken up by no more than faraway birdsong.

“Like your son?”

Gaster caught a moment of eye contact in which he could see her interest was piqued before she tipped her head back to rest it against the tree trunk she was sitting against. Toriel was grinning.

“YEAH, TORI. LIKE MY SON. HE’S LIKE YOU. HE KNOWS TOO MUCH.”

Toriel snorted.

“I find that hard to believe. You may speak well of him, and you may speak of him often, but to overestimate someone is just as dangerous as the opposite.”

“THEN YOU DON’T KNOW HIM.”

Another quirk of the mouth, a hint of a smile.

“I can honestly say I do not. Perhaps I will never know him.”

Gaster managed to lay himself down in a position on the grass where he wasn’t in danger of being jabbed by Asgore’s horns.

“AT THIS RATE, YOU MIGHT NEVER MEET HIM. HE’S TOO FOCUSED ON... LEARNING MORE, I GUESS.”

“Hmm. I suppose it _is_ possible to know too much, is it not?”

“TRUST ME, IT IS.”

“To know of peace is knowledge enough for me.”

“YOU SURE ABOUT THAT, TORI?”

Gaster never did see her expression’s reply to the question; he’d closed his eyes by that point. All he had to go off of was...

“Yes. I am sure. Today’s peace is a gift, and no gift comes free.” A soft sigh. “You know, likely better than I do, that ignorance is bliss. Is that not so?”

“...IT IS.”

“Yet we choose to walk the path of knowing nonetheless.”

“CAN’T HELP IT.”

A brief pause that Gaster could only assume was from a silent smile.

“Is it worth it, Gaster?”

“SOMETIMES.”

A laugh.

“Yes, sometimes... sometimes, indeed.”

So where had the memories gone? Gaster supposed, if anyone could remember everything in full detail, it was him, and him alone. It was funny, how that conversation had seemed so mundane back then. Things got deep, but that was just... life. Again and again, though, it replayed in Gaster’s head.

Something about it, the ambience, the words, the emotion of memory, was striking a chord deep inside him. As if he was about to feel more feelings, know more things... But that made no sense. Gaster could only predict the future at this point; the full knowledge of the timelines had already left him. Inexplicably, yet it was to be expected. He could not retain it all forever, nor did he want to.

Life was better as it was meant to be lived: mysterious.

So what was Gaster to do? He embraced the mystery most of all. Living for even just a few hours knowing everything that was ahead or could possibly happen was boring. Right now, Gaster could let go of that. Yes, it was true; one could know too much. He pulled his ring out of the void for the sole purpose of twisting it around his finger.

Even though he wasn’t sure what to expect anymore, he couldn’t shake a peculiar feeling rising up his spine. Of course, some of his senses were dull, and some were heightened. He was still trying to adjust to being alive and mortal and usually corporeal. Sometimes he felt he’d float right up past the Underground, but he didn’t feel like it. The overworld was useless without his friends.

At least he could have a guide dog or something. Right now, he just felt really lost. And mildly apprehensive, worse than when he dropped into Snowdin behind Sans’ house by accident.

So he was still overthinking it all, wondering what was going on with him, instead of doing the easy thing and turning around to see with his own eyes. As if the darkness would impede his sight or something, because it wouldn’t.

“[OH, GOD. WHO’S THERE?]”

“What the h-... [Gaster...?]”

“[HOLY SHIT,]” Gaster said, his shadowy body shaking. Tendrils snaked out of him, but weren’t all that visible in the darkness.

“[Gaster!]”

“[UMM, YOU DON’T HAVE TO SPEAK IN WINGD- FUCK.]”

He was interrupted by a fierce hug.

“[Where have you been?]” Toriel demanded, her tail whipping back and forth.

“[YOU’RE CHOKING ME AND I DON’T EVEN BREATHE, TORI.]”

When Toriel pulled away, she was wiping a tear off the corner of her eye. Still deep red as they’d always been.

“Sorry, my friend. I just... It has been a long time, do you not agree?”

“[IT HAS. IT’S BEEN A REALLY LONG TIME, YEAH.]”

Toriel sniffled.

“I’ve really missed you.”

“[I’M SORRY, TORI.]”

“Please, do not apologize. You don’t need to ask for my forgiveness, when there is nothing to forgive. You have done no misdeed, Gaster.”

“[HAHA... HA... UH, YEAH. ABOUT THAT...]”

Toriel raised an eyebrow.

“So soon?” she asked.

Gaster knew she was just teasing, but he couldn’t help but feel crippling self-loathing, remembering he’d fucked up.

“[AS A MATTER OF FACT, YES. I’M PRETTY FUCKING GOOD AT COMMITTING MISDEEDS. YOU KNOW THAT, TORI. I’D WAGER YOU KNOW THAT BETTER THAN ANYONE.]”

Toriel expressed concern fully. Her expression, with a touch of looking forlorn. Her hands, clasped together. Her tailtip twitched.

“What happened, Gaster?”

Gaster told her what happened. So much had happened, after all. He told her about what he did to Papyrus by accident, by losing control of his powers for a minute too long. He told her about Sans’ explosive reaction. He told her about almost doing the same to Grillby. He even told her about his conversations with Alphys and Asgore, all that anguish with Asgore...

“Well... it certainly sounds like you have been through a lot. You haven’t even been back for that long.”

“[DON’T UNDERESTIMATE ME AND MY AMAZING, GODLIKE ABILITIES TO FUCK UP IMMENSELY, TORI. IT’S LIKE, WHAT I’M BEST AT, PRETTY MUCH.]”

Toriel peered at him.

“You are intelligent, Gaster. Intelligent and inventive.”

“[OH, BELIEVE ME... SANS AND ALPHYS ARE THE REAL GOOD ONES.]”

“You’ve taught them well, then.”

“[SANS IS THE ONE WHO’S GOOD AT RESEARCHING SHIT, ALPHYS IS THE BEST ENGINEER I’VE KNOWN IN... WELL, CENTURIES, I THINK. MANY CENTURIES. I’M SO PROUD OF THEM, TORI. THEY’VE BOTH MADE AWFUL MISTAKES OVER ALL THIS TIME... BUT THE ONE I CAN’T FORGIVE IS MYSELF.]”

“It is only natural we find it hardest to forgive ourselves. You must learn.”

“[YOU SHOULD BE MAD AT ME, TOO, IF WE’RE GONNA FOLLOW THE PATTERN OF THINGS.]”

“I can’t be mad at you, Gaster. I know you too well for that. You’ve made mistakes, but so have I. So has _he._ Does this mean we cannot be forgiven? No. Of course not.”

Gaster studied his holey palms, and summoned forth a snippet of a conversation from another place, another time. Another person.

“[DO YOU THINK EVEN THE WORST PERSON CAN CHANGE...? THAT EVERYONE CAN BE A GOOD PERSON, IF THEY JUST TRY?]”

Toriel wasn’t sure why, but the question sounded a lot more ominous than the words themselves. She wondered why. She did not ask, because she already had an answer.

“Yes. It’s difficult to become somebody unforgivable. Few crimes cannot be forgiven, though it is not impossible... It would be unfair to simply state that not everyone can be a good person, if they just try. The attempt is what counts, is it not...?”

Gaster looked up, made eye contact.

“[IS THAT REALLY, REALLY WHAT YOU THINK?]” he asked.

“It is.”

“[DO YOU FORGIVE ASGORE?]”

Toriel winced visibly.

“Surely, you must know why I cannot.”

“[YOU WILL HAVE TO, ONE DAY. MAYBE NOT SOON, BUT ONE DAY.]”

At that, Toriel dipped her head. She did not accept it in her heart, though she knew Gaster had a point. She could not harbour resentment forever. It would not help anyone.

“He is a murderer,” Toriel whispered.

“[IF IT HELPS, HE DIDN’T KILL _ALL_ OF THEM.]”

“It does not change the fact of the matter.”

“[SO WHEN DID THE NUMBER BECOME A BOOLEAN STATISTIC TO YOU? WHEN DID IT GO FROM ‘HE’S OK’ TO ‘HE’S AN IRREDEEMABLE KILLER’? TWO KILLS? THREE? FOUR?]”

“Stop, please,” Toriel said, shaking her head. She shot her best friend a hard look. “We are both hypocrites. You want me to forgive him. I want you to forgive yourself.”

“[TORI, IT’S NOT LIKE THAT. I MEAN, I DO WANT YOU TO FORGIVE HIM... BUT MOSTLY JUST FOR YOUR OWN GOOD. YOU’RE GOOD AT HIDING IT, BUT IT’S EASY FOR ME TO TELL THAT IT EATS YOU UP INSIDE WHEN YOU DARE THINK OF IT. AND I DON’T WANT IT TO BE LIKE THAT FOR YOU. YOU’RE SMARTER THAN THAT.]”

Toriel sighed, Gaster sighed.

“Do you not think you are worth forgiveness, Gaster? Do you not think that everyone can be a good person, if they just try?”

“[IT WAS A TRICK QUESTION ALL ALONG, YOU KNOW.]”

Toriel smiled faintly, replied, “I had a feeling.” Her smile faded, and her eyebrows knit in consternation. “The way you asked it was... rather haunting.”

“[I CAN’T BELIEVE IT'S BEEN CENTURIES SINCE WE’VE LAST SPOKEN, AND YOU STILL KNOW ME BETTER THAN ANYONE. LIKE, YOU’D THINK MY SON, WHO WORKED TIRELESSLY FOR YEARS TO BRING ME BACK FROM THE VOID WOULD AT LEAST KINDA KNOW ME BETTER, BUT NOPE.]”

“Don’t be so hard on him, Gaster.”

“[WELL I GUESS IF THERE’S ANYTHING YOU TWO HAVE IN COMMON, IT’S THAT WE’VE SPENT THE MOST TIME TOGETHER. ALSO PUNS. AND BAD JOKES IN GENERAL. BOTH OF YOU SUCK A LOT IN THAT DEPARTMENT.”

“Yes, well...” Toriel covered her mouth with a hand. “There’s a certain _integrity_ in people who like bad jokes, do you not agree?”

“[I AGREE YOU BOTH SUCK. ONLY SOME PUNS ARE FUNNY. OTHERS JUST MAKE ME SUFFER,]” Gaster said, throwing his hands up and making Toriel roll her eyes.

“You’re constantly suffering.”

“[OK... TRUE. TRUE. FOR SOME REASON, I FEEL LIKE YOU DON’T KNOW WHO MY SON IS...?]”

“Well, I never got the chance to meet him. You and all the academic work you’ve talked about has kept him busy, has it not?”

“[NO, I MEAN... UH... WHO HE IS...? LIKE, UH...]”

“What do you- oh. Oh. Ohhh. Oh my goodness.”

“[Y’KNOW, I’D BE MORE CONFUSED IF I DIDN’T KNOW OF ALL THE TIME-SPACE DISCREPANCIES THAT MY RETURN CAUSED. IT’S STILL FUNNY HOW YOU DIDN’T MAKE THE CONNECTION ‘TIL I BROUGHT IT UP NOW, THOUGH.]

“I don’t understand it, either. I’d think that... I’d get it sooner...” Toriel said, shaking her head.

“[WELL HE NEVER DID TELL YOU HIS NAME PERSONALLY, SO IT KINDA MAKES SENSE. AFTER ALL, THE ONLY MEMORIES THAT REALLY FLOODED BACK AFTER MY RETURN WERE THE ONES CONNECTED TO ME, RIGHT? AND IN THE MEMORIES CONNECTED TO ME, WELL, YOU NEVER MET HIM. SO, IUNNO. MAYBE THAT’S WHY.]”

Toriel groaned. “It’s still weird. I cannot believe I have been speaking to your son this whole time, through that door!”

Gaster snickered, then tapped his skull. “[THE MIND DOES WEIRD SHIT, TORI. OBVIOUS SHIT ISN’T ALWAYS THAT OBVIOUS EVEN WHEN IT SEEMS LIKE IT SHOULD BE, RIGHT?]”

“Yes, yes... This is true. But still... Do you think... does he know...?” Toriel asked, hand on her cheek as she wondered.

“[NAH, HE’S BEEN PRETTY ANGRY WITH ME FOR A WHILE. BUT WHEN YOU TWO MEET, HE’LL REALIZE. HE WON’T SAY ANYTHING, BUT HE’LL KNOW IT.]”

“Okay, that’s good. Um, I mean... well, anyway...”

Gaster was kind enough to drop the subject, partially because he had more negative issues on his mind than the eventual relationship that would develop between his son and Toriel. “[LISTEN, TORI. Y’KNOW, I’M STILL IN LOVE WITH HIM. I TELL MYSELF NOT TO THINK ABOUT HIM, AND EVEN THOUGH I KNOW HE’S DONE ALL THE BAD SHIT HE’S DONE... I STILL...]” He trailed off, shaking his head in what might’ve been shame.

Toriel nodded slowly, but then she grabbed Gaster’s arm. It was more like grabbing a chunk of shadow.

“Is it really love you feel?” she demanded, eyes blazing with fire.

“[OK, I KNOW I’VE FUCKED UP SORTING OUT ROMANTIC AND PLATONIC AND ALL KINDS OF FEELINGS IN THE PAST, BUT...]”

“You need to ask yourself this, Gaster. Is it really love you feel? Is it something else? How much do you think you idolize him, or this... golden idea of him, that isn’t really him?” Toriel asked. “He’s a person like you and I, with real flaws, and you know this. You’ve known this for a long time, and longer than I have. But you must open your eyes. Do not allow yourself to fall prey to an illusion of a person whom the actual person will never become.”

Gaster recoiled instinctively when Toriel grabbed his shoulders, and shook him a little.

“I know you’re older than me. You’ve been through more, you may very well be smarter, and you know a lot of things that I don’t and never will. I... I have faith in you. To make the right decision, that’s best for you. I believe you’ll make the right decision. Please... please do not fail yourself.”

Toriel hugged him tightly before he could muster up a response. He was still rendered speechless by the time she backed off of him. He couldn’t even give a response. Instead...

“[WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU EVEN GOING? YOU HAVEN’T LEFT THE RUINS IN FOREVER.]”

Toriel smiled slightly at that. Knowingly, even.

“I am heading to a place I haven’t seen in a long time. There is someone I must see.” She grew serious now, both in tone and facial expression. “My actions have no doubt contributed to the fact that they are soon to be burdened with a difficult choice, one I do not believe they should need to make.”

She patted Gaster’s arm, a light and reassuring gesture.

“One should never, ever have to feel like the only options are murder or death. I pray I am not too late now.”

Somehow, even though Gaster didn’t really understand, didn’t know what she was talking about even though he knew _who_ she was talking about was the human, he nodded. If he understood anything, it was her sentiment.

“[GOOD LUCK.]”

“And to you, Gaster. Good luck.”

Gaster watched her pad off into the darkness of Waterfall, disappearing across the wooden bridge. Her steps never faltered, and Gaster yearned for that kind of sureness in some aspect of his life.

He felt his hands melting, and immediately removed the ring he wore. The symbol of a Royal Scientist... yet, somehow, it had grown into something so much more than that, hadn’t it?

Gaster studied it and all of its angles, all the tiny nicks in the metal that gave it personality. He rolled it between his thumb and forefinger before bringing his hand back, and flinging the metal band into the distance. He heard a _splash_ coming from somewhere, someplace off in the marsh, amidst the waving typha and past the whispering echo flowers.

He felt oddly free.

It didn’t matter that he hadn’t sorted himself out yet. That was a complicated matter. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t gotten solid apologies yet. That was an even more complicated matter. Gaster knew his life was a mess, but to have power, even a little bit, over something solid like this... for some reason, it helped a lot. It put things in perspective.

Little by little, he could learn how to help himself. Maybe... if he could achieve that, something like that... then he could do what was quite possibly the most important: forgive himself. If he could forgive himself of all people, others could forgive him, too.

“[WELP,]” he said, straightening and turning away from the marsh. “[I’M GOIN’ TO GRILLBY’S.]”


End file.
